Still Looking
by jaybo ladyofthedance
Summary: Harry's 7th year at Hogwarts. Written while waiting for the 6th book to come out so, obviously, it doesn't take the last 2 books into account. HP/GW and RW/HG. Rated for language.
1. Blaming Yourself

Hope dangles on a string

Like slow spinning redemption

Winding in, winding out

The shine of it has caught my eye

And roped me in so mesmerizing

So hypnotizing

I am captivated

I am vindicated

I am selfish

I am wrong

I am right

I swear I'm right

Swear I knew it all along

And I am flawed

But I am cleaning up so well

I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself

Vindicated—Dashboard Confessional

Chapter One Blaming Yourself 

Harry Potter was an extraordinary boy for many reasons. For one, he thought of his school as his home, and he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of the year. Added to the fact that he was a wizard, and not just any wizard, but one who had survived more attempts on his life by the most evil person of all time than any other human and it was easy to see what made Harry so different.

At the moment, Harry was stuck inside one of his nightmares, unable to wake himself. He knew every night as he fell asleep that the dreams would come and that he would be forced to witness the deaths of everyone he loved again, but how can you hold off sleep forever?

The faces flashed before his eyes, each one more mangled and bloody than the one before it. First came Lily and James Potter, the parents Harry could barely remember. Cedric, then Sirius, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Charlie Weasley followed them, each whispering to Harry how it was his fault that so many people had died. Then something happened that had never before occurred in one of these dreams. Lord Voldemort emerged from the shadows of Harry's mind and turned his wand upon the boy. Harry stared in horror as a jet of green light washed over him.

His whole body seized up as Harry awoke with a start in bed. The first thing he noticed was the fact that his scar was burning worse than it had in years. The second thing Harry realized was that he was drenched in a cold sweat and the blankets were tangled around him like a strait jacket. He brought his hands up to his face and felt tears mingled with his sweat.

As his breathing slowed, Harry tried to recall the dream. The only thing he could remember was the image of Voldemort performing the Avada Kedavra curse on him.

Struck with a sudden idea, Harry jumped from bed and began to compose a letter to his godfather asking advice.

_Dear Sirius, _

_My scar hurt ag-_

But Harry slammed his quill down in frustration. Sirius wouldn't get the letter. He was dead and had been so for nearly two years now and Harry should have remembered that. He had connected more with his godfather in the short time he'd known him than with any other adult in his life. Plus it was Harry's fault that he was dead, or so he believed.

Harry put his head on his arms and felt his body become wracked with sobs. He refused to let the Dursleys hear him though, and as the first moan escaped from his mouth, he scrambled over to his bed and cried into his pillow.

Everyone around him was dying off, and Harry couldn't help but feel that maybe he had caused all this. He thought back to the night that Cedric had died. Harry had been too absorbed in his own pain to even fight back for Cedric. He had died while Harry sat on the ground complaining about the pain in his scar.

And Sirius...he as good as murdered him. Harry thought he had been acting the hero by going to save his godfather. Instead Sirius had to come and rescue Harry, ending up in a duel with his own cousin before falling through the veil, never to return.

Then, of course there were the Weasleys. Maybe if Harry weren't so close to Ron then Voldemort wouldn't have targeted them last year. Ron would still have a mum, dad, and his older brother and the other Weasleys wouldn't be feeling so much pain.

"_Yes_," Harry thought, "_this is all my fault_."

Just then, a near, unearthly screech filled the room. Harry raised his tearstained face to gaze at two enormous barn owls and Pig, Ron's tiny owl. He picked up one of the letters the birds had dropped and wiping his face began to read.

Dear Harry,

How's your summer been so far? Mine's been wonderful! We've gone on a trip across Europe and we'll be stopping in London in time to buy school things. Can you believe this is our last year? I can't. It seems like just yesterday when you and Ron thought me a know-it-all ("We still do, Hermione," Harry laughed.) but now look at us. I hope the your aunt and uncle are treating you right. I'll see you September 1st on the Hogwarts Express.

Love Always,

Hermione

P.S. I've been made Head Girl! Mother and Father are so proud!

He looked at the parcel Hermione's bird had brought him. It looked rather like a book and knowing his best friend it probably was. As he peeled back the wrapping paper another note fell out.

Happy Birthday, Harry!

I've kept in touch with Collin Creevy and a few other friends and they agreed to contribute to this.

Hermione

Harry looked back down at the present and found he was right in guessing she had sent him a book. However it looked almost identical to the one Hagrid had given him in his first year, filled with photos of his parents.

Opening the front cover, he was surprised to find a picture of himself and his two best friends. He flipped through the pages, seeing similar pictures and even a few letters.

He stopped at a picture of Cho Chang, a pretty girl Harry had dated in his 5th year. Things hadn't worked out between them and, although they'd tried again in his 6th year, Harry's interests had been else where as had Cho's. They'd parted the closest of friends but when she'd graduated from Hogwarts and followed her dreams of Quidditch, they'd lost touch. Harry didn't even know which team she played for.

He was, in a twisted way, glad things hadn't worked out between them. Otherwise, he would never have seen how much he cared for Ginny Weasley. He had pushed her from his mind for a few years but now Harry was beginning to see her in a new light. He stopped riffling through the pages again, only this time Ginny's picture waved back at him.

He couldn't believe that he had once hated the attentions of this girl. Now, it seemed that was all he wanted in life. In fact, it had been Ginny who had the most comforting words after Sirius's death.

_"You'll see him again, you know, along with your parents. They're waiting for you, just beyond the veil. Imagine that reunion."_

Setting aside Hermione's gift, Harry turned to the letters Pig had dropped. One was from Ron and the other from Ginny. He opened Ron's first.

Harry!

Happy Birthday! If your wondering why Pig doesn't have your present, it's because I don't think he could carry it. In fact, I don't think any owl could even hope to carry it. It doesn't matter though because you'll get it when I see you again, which I think should be very soon.

Now let me explain a little bit about what I'm talking about.

Bill's come to the Burrow to help take care of us since Mum's not here anymore. Anyway, he said that as soon as he gets the OK from Dumbledore, we'd be coming to pick you up for the summer. I'll write you before we come to get you.

Ron

P.S. Hermione says she's Head Girl. Wonder who's Head Boy. Hope it's not Draco!

Next, Harry pulled open Ginny's letter. It was much shorter than Ron's and hastily written.

Harry,

The only way I can send this to you is if I sneak this with Pig. I just wanted to wish you happy birthday and to tell you that I can't wait till you come to stay with us. Don't give up hope; everything will get better soon.

Ginny

Laying this note tenderly on his bedside table, Harry began to unfold another letter. He recognized Hagrid the Hogwarts Gamekeeper's untidy scrawl at once.

Harry,

Happy Birthday! I'm sorry but I've been to busy with the Order to get yer birthday present. I'll get it to yeh when I see yeh at Hogwarts. Be ready for yer N.E.W.T.'s this year! Hope yer birthday's great.

Hagrid

Harry gulped. He'd forgotten that N.E.W.T.'s were this year. O.W.L.'s had been bad enough. He suspected that the teachers, however, had not by some happy chance happened to forget about the tests though, and that he should prepare for an exhausting year. For now, he'd just sit back and enjoy his birthday free from worry of the tests.

Harry picked up the last letter, weighing it in his palm. It was his Hogwarts letter and it felt as heavy as it had last year when he'd received his prefect's badge, a year later than all the other prefects. He couldn't figure out why it would be so heavy this year. As he unfolded the letter, a golden badge with the letters HB emblazoned on it fell onto his bedspread. Harry stared at it blankly before speed-reading the notes that accompanied it. The first two were the usual about where to catch the train and what supplies were needed. The last piece of parchment, however, read something very different.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that in light of your success at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you have been accepted as Head Boy. You and the Head Girl will meet at the front of the Hogwarts Express where you will be given instructions for the year. Following that, you will then provide the prefects with their directions for the year. It is best if you acquaint yourself with all prefects and the new Head Girl, as you will be in contact with them throughout the year. Congratulations and we hope to see you September 1st on the Hogwarts Express.

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry gazed dumbly at the letter, trying to absorb everything he'd just read. "Head Boy?" he muttered to no one in particular.

Grinning, he placed the badge on his bedside table. His smile vanished quickly though, as the full weight of his new responsibility hit him. Being Harry Potter was hard enough but when added to the roles of a 7th year preparing for N.E.W.T.'s, Gryffindor Quidditch captain, and his new Head Boy duty, this year would be overwhelming.

Yawning, Harry glanced at his luminous clock in his room. His mouth snapped shut. It was nearly four in the morning and with a jolt he realized he'd been seventeen for almost four hours.

He casually brushed the stray feathers off his bedspread and crawled beneath the covers once again. After a few moments he had drifted off into a deep sleep.


	2. Coming to Grips

Whose eyes am I behind?

I don't recognize anything that I see

Whose skin is this design?

I don't want this to be the way that you see me

I don't understand anything anymore

And this world that I'm tired of is taking me right up these walls

That I climb up

To get to your story

It's anything but ordinary

And when the world is on its knees with me it's fine

And when I come to the rescue I get nothing but left behind

Everybody seems to be getting what they need, where's mine?

'Cause you're what I need so very but I'm anything but ordinary

Ordinary—Train

**Chapter Two Coming to Grips**

Harry woke next morning when a deafening roar from Uncle Vernon penetrated the thick stupor that often accompanied Harry's late nights. He dressed quickly and silently crept into the living room where he found Aunt Petunia sobbing and his uncle shaking with anger.

"What's happened?" Harry asked daringly, as it was forbidden to ask questions in this household.

"It's YOUR fault!" Vernon roared, eyes flashing menacingly. "I've been fired and it's entirely your fault!" he bellowed, advancing on his nephew.

"What did I do?" asked Harry meekly, shrinking away from his uncle.

"I don't know what you did, but its got something to do with your... your... abnormality," he screamed, pushing Harry so that he tripped over the coffee table. Harry stumbled but remained upright. He wished he hadn't.

"Oh, you'll pay for this one, boy." Uncle Vernon raised one meaty fist and drove it sharply into Harry's stomach. Aunt Petunia gasped. He doubled over in pain before falling to the floor. His uncle then drew back his foot and kicked Harry hard in the ribs. Harry felt something crack and breathing became a lot more difficult.

"Get up, boy!" Vernon shouted, trying to pull Harry to his feet again.

Aunt Petunia rushed forward and wrapped her bony arms around her husband, tearing him away from Harry. "Vernon, no!" she shouted, much to Harry's surprise.

Clutching his stomach in one hand and using the other to push himself into a standing position before his uncle could vent anymore, he turned to face Uncle Vernon defiantly. "I HAVEN'T GOT A CLUE AS TO WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" Harry screamed, waves of pain coursing through his tired body. Then, turning on his heel he strode to the front door, still holding his stomach. He hesitated with his hand on the handle and said, "I'll be back later," before leaving the house.

At the end of the front walk, Harry turned to look back at the house. It appeared so peaceful in the early morning light. The sunlight glinted on the brass number outside the door and the perfectly manicured lawn was covered in sparkling morning dew. It was ironic how life inside Number 4 Privet Drive was a living nightmare for Harry.

Harry felt himself walking, but he paid no attention to where his feet were carrying him. It wasn't until he found walking difficult that he realized where he was. Just like when he'd been a little boy and the Dursleys had made him mad, he'd searched for his refuge in the park. Usually, Dudley came to find him and attempted to beat him up, but now the huge boy was positively terrified of any and all things magic.

He took up his seat on the only unbroken swing (Dudley's gang had broken them all years ago and they still hadn't been fixed). Instead of swinging though, Harry gazed at his reflection in the puddle underneath the swing.

A skinny boy of seventeen stared back. Harry had expected that, it was how the boy looked that scared him. His hair was still jet black and shaggy and his eyes were the same disconcerting green. Harry's face though, was covered in so many bruises and scratches from various beatings that it was impossible to tell where one injury ended and another began.

His lightening bolt scar seemed to stand out more against his pale and discolored skin, too. He thought back to before his first year at Hogwarts, before he'd really known the full effect that tiny mark would have on his life. That scar had been the only thing about Harry's appearance that he'd liked. Now he'd give anything to get rid of it.

That scar had marked Harry for life. He was the only one who could vanquish Lord Voldemort, and, in turn, the Dark Lord would stop at nothing until Harry was dead. Harry hated his life and it was all because someone had given him a scar when he was to young to even remember it.

"Harry! Help!"

Harry jumped to his feet, ready to fight. He looked around wildly, searching for Voldemort or his Death Eaters, but all he found was little Mark Evans, running toward him.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked as the boy drew nearer.

He stopped, panting in front of Harry. "It's Dudley… again… he's… after… me…"

Just then, Dudley and his gang jogged into view. "You!" Dudley gasped.

"Yes, me," said Harry, gripping Mark's shoulder tightly. He knew there would be no outrunning Dudley today, if it came to that. His best bet was to frighten him off. How he would do that, he didn't quite know yet. "What do you want?" he asked, hoping to stall him.

"Nothing from you," Dudley said, coming closer, a sneer playing across his piggy features. "That kid though, he insulted us, and we want to make sure he doesn't do it again."

"Really," said Harry. He looked down at Mark. "Did you insult them?"

Mark shook his head. "I only told him that if he kept on smoking like that, he wouldn't just look like a pig, he'd smell like one too."

Harry grinned. "That's not an insult, Dudley, that's the truth. I'm surprised you're dear mummy hasn't told you that."

"You leave my mum out of this."

"Oh, does that mean she doesn't know? Well, then, I'd better go tell her."

"You wouldn't dare. Besides, she'd never believe you."

"Maybe not, but what if she just happened to find that secret stash of yours." In truth Harry didn't know of any secret stash. He was grasping at straws. It was getting harder for him to breath from all the talking.

"You haven't got any proof of that!" Dudley shouted.

"Oh, I've got all the proof I need," said Harry as he lead Mark past Dudley towards his house.

Dudley grabbed Harry's arm and wheeled him around to face him. He shook one sausage like finger in Harry's face. "Don't you dare tell, Potter."

"I won't if you leave Mark alone."

Dudley peeked past Harry and peered into Mark's face. "Alright," he sighed.

"Good. Well, I'll see you at home" he added cheerfully, seeking to infuriate Dudley more thoroughly.

"Thanks," Mark said as they rounded a corner.

"No problem."

Mark looked up at Harry and smiled. His smile faltered and turned into a frown. "Harry, what happened to your face?"

"Nothing."

"Right, and I can fly. Who did that?"

"No one."

"Harry, you never used keep secrets from me."

Harry stooped and looked the boy in the eyes. "Mark, I only wish I could tell you, but this is something I have to handle on my own."

"Alright, but you should still tell me."

"So are you ready for school," said Harry, changing the subject.

"Yeah, I guess. How come you never tell me about your school?" Harry shrugged. "Oh, speaking of school, I got this strange letter this morning. Something about a Hogwarts or something. My mum threw it away. Said it was a load of rubbish."

Harry stopped walking. "Hogwarts? As in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Written on parchment…purple wax seal…?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Never mind that. What did it say?"

"It told me that I had been accepted there. It told me that normally people get accepted there when they're 11, but I got overlooked because no one knew that I was a wizard."

"And you said that you're mum threw it away?"

"Yes…why?"

"Mark, that's not a joke! That's where I go every year! Tell your mum! You'll love it there."

"In case you haven't noticed, your word doesn't mean that much around here, Harry," said Mark disdainfully as he continued walking.

"Maybe not. But I can prove it. I got accepted as Head Boy there last night! Look," he said, drawing out his letter.

Mark snatched it out of his hand and read. "It really is true. I'd been wondering how I could make some things happen. I accidentally broke a wine glass one time 'cause my mum was yelling at me for something really dumb. I was staring at it and all the sudden it shattered!"

As they talked, they reached Mark's house. "Thanks again, Harry. I'll try and convince my mom to let me go."

Harry continued his solitary walk home. He felt happier than he'd felt in weeks. He was not the only wizard for miles now. He finally had someone to share his thoughts with in the summer, someone who would finally understand what Voldemort was putting him through.

As he drew near Number 4, Harry braced himself for the tide of anger that was sure to be directed at him when he came creeping back through the door. "I'm back," he shouted, making a beeline for the safety of his bedroom.

"Not so fast, boy," came Uncle Vernon's reply from the kitchen. "Get in here now."

Harry tentatively walked into the kitchen. "Sit," Vernon said shortly, pointing to a chair. Harry sat. He noticed an empty bottle of whisky on the table where Uncle Vernon had been sitting.

"I do not like your tone of voice these days. Your aunt and I don't appreciate being yelled at when we try to discipline you properly," he began, slurring his words horribly and shoving his beefy purple face right in front of Harry. He smelled stale alcohol on his breath.

Harry gaped open-mouthed at the man. Coming to his senses, he snapped his mouth shut and jumped to his feet. "YOU don't appreciate MY tone?" Harry asked disbelievingly as an insuppressible rage boiled within his chest. "What if I told you that I hate being treated like this!" he continued through gritted teeth. "All my life you lied to me, beat me, starved me... all because you were afraid of something you couldn't understand! Well, I'm sick of it!"

Out of nowhere, a large hand slapped Harry across the face so hard that he was sent flying headfirst into the kitchen counter before crumpling in a heap on the floor.

Harry raised his head to look at his uncle with pleading eyes. His lip was bleeding and so was his eyebrow where he'd smacked it against the corner of the counter. "Why?" he whispered.

Vernon bent down and grabbed the boy's shoulders roughly and hissed through his teeth, "Because you're an ungrateful little bastard, just like your father," before shoving him back against the cabinets.

Harry's head smacked sharply against the wood beneath the sink and he lay motionless on the kitchen floor. Vernon Dursley stood and left the room, grabbing the newspaper off the table and sat down in the living room to read.

* * *

"Harry... Come on, Harry, wake up."

Then came someone else's voice asking, "Did you feel how light he was? And look at his face."

Something cool was pressed against Harry's forehead while a rag wiped at his eye and lip.

"Harry, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand," came Ginny's worried voice. He focused all his energy on squeezing her hand tight. The sudden movement had caused Harry's mind to recall every detail of the fight with Uncle Vernon. Harry grimaced and tentatively opened his eyes.

Ginny's worried face peered down at him. He looked around and saw that he was lying on a couch in the Burrow with his head in her lap. She smiled at him and ran a hand through his hair. If Harry hadn't been so confused, he might have appreciated all this a bit more.

"Nice of you to join us," Ginny said.

"Yeah, well, I thought I'd had enough beauty sleep for one day," he whispered back.

"No, you still need it." She reached over to the coffee table and grabbed a rag soaked in some potion. "Put this on your lip," she said, handing him the cloth.

He put it to his lip and felt the cut start to sting. He let out a hiss of pain and hurriedly took the cloth away.

"Oh, you big baby! You've had worse injuries than that and you never made a sound," Ginny said, turning his face this way and that and frowning. "Well, it's healed anyway so you can stop whining."

"Phoenix tears?" Harry asked.

"Phoenix tears and disinfectant, yeah... Boy your uncle sure did a number on you."

"Yeah," said Harry in what he hoped was an off-hand voice. Then in an attempt to change the subject, he asked. "When did you become so skilled with medicine?"

"I used to want to be a healer, but that was before Quidditch. I just decided to keeplearning it. I'm kind of gladI did now. Now sit up and face me."

Harry attempted it but halfway there, the blood began to rush from his head, threatening his hold on consciousness. Ginny put an arm around him and helped him into a sitting position. Then she cupped his face in her hand.

"Look at me."

Harry looked at her and tried to get his eyes to focus, but he still felt dizzy.

"Now," she said, "I'm going to get rid of these bruises." She did a complicated wave of her wand and Harry felt a rush of warm air on his face like a summer breeze. Then the pain vanished and the room stopped spinning. Ginny, however, did not let go of his face.

"How did that happen?" she whispered, searching for answers in Harry's eyes.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Harry mumbled, trying to pull away from her. Instead of letting him go though, she pulled him into a tight hug. Harry winced and grabbed at his chest.

"What?" Ginny asked, jumping back.

Harry waved her away dismissively. "It's nothing."

"Oh no, you don't. You're hurt. Lie back down."

He lay down as Ginny slid to his knees by the couch. Suddenly she let out a small gasp.

Despite the muscles he'd acquired from his extensive Quidditch training, Harry was horribly thin. All of his ribs stuck out against his skin but one spot in particular held Ginny's gaze. It was an ugly bluish black color and anyone could tell that a broken rib lay beneath it.

"This'll probably hurt," she said, placing one hand on Harry's shoulder and the other over the bruise, preparing to work difficult magic. She'd only just learned how to heal broken bones. "Exhale when I tell you to."

Harry braced himself. He didn't want to show too much agony, not after the baby remark.

"Now," Ginny said suddenly.

Harry blew out a long breath as Ginny pushed the heel of her hand into his ribs. He felt them painfully come back together, but just as quickly as it started, the pain stopped.

"Done," Ginny said with a smile, apparently pleased with her work. "Now before I put everything away, there will be no more surprises, right?"

Harry shook his head and caught Ginny's hand in his. "Thank you. It's good to be back."

"What are you two doing?" said Ron from across the room.

"I was just thanking her," Harry said, hastily dropping Ginny's hand. She'd gone scarlet and quickly began to pack all of her medicines back into their boxes.

"Right...Welcome back, mate," Ron said with a grin as he helped his friend up from the couch and pulled him into a bear hug.

"How'd I get here?" he asked, gazing at the Burrow. Nothing had changed except for the old clock against the wall. Three hands were missing and Harry knew all to well which three.

"Well," said Ron sitting down on the couch, "I sent Pig telling you we'd be there soon. When Bill and I arrived in your living room, your uncle told us you were in the kitchen. We didn't expect to find you like that though." He looked at Harry as if expecting an answer to a question. When none came, he asked, "What happened in there?"

Harry was not looking forward to reliving the events of the past few hours but he knew they'd get it out of him one way or another so he began to tell Ron everything. Well, almost everything.

"My uncle got fired and blamed it on me. He hit me and I left. When I got back he yelled at me for my tone and I yelled at him for treating me like dirt and he got mad again." Harry hoped he'd toned his story down a lot.

Ron gaped at him, then, realizing how dumb he looked, brought himself back to earth. "You don't have to go back you know. You're of age! You can leave home."

"Yeah, but Dumbledore said I have to be able to call that place 'home' in order for some spell to work. Otherwise, I'd leave for good."

"Stay here, mate. Bill's said it's ok and you've already been with the Muggles this year. You can 'stay' here and 'live' with them a few days every summer," he babbled quickly.

"You sure?"

"Well, it's only the three of us now that Mum, Dad, and Charlie are gone, and Percy doesn't want anything to do with us. Fred and George live near the joke shop, so we've got plenty of room." Ron looked up expectantly.

"I don't know," Harry said skeptically. In truth, he was dying to stay here but he wanted to run things by Dumbledore first.

"C'mon," Ron begged.

Harry laughed. "I'll run it by Dumbledore when we get back to school and if it's alright by him I'll do it."

Just then, Hedwig flew in through an open window and landed on the arm of the couch. "I guess we forgot her," Ron said as Harry stroked her.

Harry shook his head. "No. She left to deliver a letter to Hagrid this morning." He took the letter from her beak and stared at it. It was plain to see from the regular envelope and stationary that a Muggle had sent the note. Harry hastily unfolded it and began to read.

Harry,

I went to your house today and tried to talk to you but your uncle said that you'd been called off to school. When I headed for home, I saw your owl fly in my window. I think she wanted me to write you. She's very smart. Anyway, all I wanted to tell you was that I get to come to Hogwarts. Some man came to my house while I was gone and convinced my mum to let me go. I think she said his name was Dumbledore or something like that. She's not very good with remembering names.

I hope this letter gets to you okay.

Mark


	3. Losing the Will

Did you say everything you could?

Do the things that you thought you would?

Did it ever occur to you that this could be your final day?

Did you go where you wanted to go?

Learn about what you wanted to know?

Did you ever really give something back, instead of always taking it?

Did you find what you're looking for?

Did you get your foot in the door?

Can you look at yourself and feel proud of all the things you've done?

Did you inspire the ones that you knew?

Make a difference in those that knew you?

Did you finally figure out what it is that makes us who we are today?

Don't waste another day

You never know when you'll get one

Don't waste another day

To do anything you haven't done

Did You?—Hoobestank

**Chapter Three Losing the Will**

Harry awoke the next morning on the couch. He blinked at the dazzling sunlight filtering in through the curtains, then breathed deep and stretched. That was the best night's sleep he'd had in a long time. No dreams, no beatings, just pure, uninterrupted sleep. Harry stopped mid-yawn. A wonderful smell wafted into the room from the kitchen and for a moment he expected to hear Mrs. Weasley's voice urging him to come into the kitchen and eat with the rest of the family.

Ruffling his hair, he stumbled into the kitchen. The most magnificent smelling foods were cooking on the stove and Ginny stood over them, casually waving her wand to keep things going and reading a book.

"Morning, Ginny," Harry said, suddenly aware that he was still in his pajamas. "Who's this feast for?" he asked casually.

"It's your day-late birthday breakfast," she answered as she scooped some sausages onto a plate and set them on the table. Within minutes, Bill and Ron came downstairs, no doubt drawn by the smell of the food.

When at last every plate had been emptied, Ginny suggested that now was the time to give Harry his presents.

"Me first!" she said, taking Harry's hands and pulling him from his seat. She put one hand over his eyes and used the other to guide Harry into the living room. "Look," she whispered. What Harry saw in front of him nearly made him cry. On the clock, a new hand bearing his name had been added.

"You're part of the family now. You're staying here! Dumbledore's already said its ok!"

"Thank you," Harry breathed, staring at the clock while Ginny hugged him.

"And now for ours," Bill said, turning towards the staircase. They climbed until they reached Fred and George's room. At least, it had been their room at one point.

When Ron opened the door however, walls of red and gold greeted Harry. A bed blanketed with a warm-looking red comforter, a mahogany dresser, and a desk lined the walls.

"You couldn't very well sleep on that couch now that you're a part of this family now, could you?"

Harry threw his arms around Ron's neck. This was it... He belonged to a family now. Sure no one was really related to him, but two of his best friends were living under the same roof as him. That was good enough for him.

"Quidditch anyone?" suggested Bill.

* * *

Yes I know that Harry is the Seeker in Quidditch but since only four people are playing this particular match, the positions of Seeker and Beater have been taken out. Just thought you'd like to know so I don't get too many responses telling me how dumb I am for not knowing that simple bit of information. Anyways... back to the story!

* * *

Harry hadn't flown since school had ended and he was glad to be back. He closed his eyes and let the wind whip his hair back. Flying had always calmed his nerves like nothing else. Now was no different. The weight of his life seemed to lift off his shoulders as he soared high above the ground.

Now was not the time to be calm though. Harry streaked toward the end of the Weasley's makeshift pitch with the Quaffle under his arm. Nearing the hoops, Harry slowed and faked a left. When Bill fell for it, Harry threw the Quaffle in.

"Score!" he shouted, pumping the air with his fist, a grin lighting up his features for the first time in what felt like forever.

All of the sudden, he felt his scar burn white hot. He clapped his hands to his forehead and his Firebolt dropped a few feet. Luckily, Harry knew enough by now, with six years of experience on brooms, to head for ground. He jumped off and fell onto the grass on all fours.

It was a good thing he'd reached the ground. Harry was now shaking so badly that he probably would have slid off his broom had he remained in the air and, even worse than that, he was going to be sick. Everything he'd eaten for breakfast began to come back up. Harry clamped a hand over his mouth and leaving his Firebolt in the field, he dashed inside to the Weasley's bathroom.

Leaning over the toilet, Harry retched. He heard footsteps pounding up the stairs and knocks on the door. Still, Harry knelt there; dry heaving for a while, before getting up and washing his face and mouth. He looked in the mirror and was surprised at how pale his face was. He lifted one hand in front of his eyes and watched it shake like a leaf. What was happening to him? He breathed in deep, and then opened the door to find Ginny, leaning against a wall, worry etched across her face.

"I'm fine," he answered, swaying a little.

"Really?"

He started to nod, but instead shook his head before passing out into Ginny's outstretched arms.

"Bill! Ron!" She yelled, sliding to the floor with Harry in her arms. "Help me!" Ginny felt Harry's forehead. It was cold and clammy except for his scar, which was burning madly.

Finally, footsteps were heard in the kitchen, then running up the stairs. They came to a halt next to Ginny and Harry.

"What happened?" Ron asked, kneeling next to her and attempting to wake his best friend.

"I don't know. He just passed out," she said frantically.

_

* * *

_

_Harry heard screams. He looked around him and found himself lying on the ground near the Ministry of Magic Building. He sat up, shaking his head to clear the fog that engulfed his mind. Slowly, as his eyes focused, people came into view. They were wearing black cloaks and surrounding two figures on the ground. _

_"Death Eaters," Harry thought with disgust._

_Harry crept closer, making sure to stay out of sight just in case he could be seen in this vision. When he was about fifty feet away from the group, he stopped and gasped. He recognized the people on the ground. They were Auror Kingsley Shackelbolt and ex-Auror Alastor Moody, both prominent members of the Order. _

_Suddenly, one of the Death Eaters began to speak. Harry cringed at the voice as he realized he knew who it was. Bellatrix Lestrange was addressing the two forlorn men on the ground. _

_"Well, well, well. Looky hear. It's Mad-Eye Moody and Mad-Eye in training no doubt." Laughs from the Death Eaters echoed in the quiet streets. Harry shook with rage as the women who killed his godfather tormented his friends on the ground. He was suddenly filled with an almost uncontrollable urge to rush at her and kill her with his own two hands. He gritted his teeth and held himself back knowing that even if this was a dream, he'd never get anywhere near her with all these Death Eaters around. _

_Harry watched Kingsley spit at Lestrange, and silently he rejoiced that the man was fighting back. Bellatrix did not take kindly to the defiance and made sure Kingsley and Moody understood that. "You'll learn some respect. Crucio!"_

_Kingsley and Moody writhed on the ground but uttered no sound. As they did so, Harry felt his own scar sear with pain again, and a sensation he'd felt too many times in his young life already coursed through his body. He felt as if he were burning from the inside out and every fiber of his body ached. Then, as suddenly as it all started, it all stopped. Harry lay panting on the ground, unseen, a few yards from the mob. _

_The Death Eaters were clearly disappointed with the display. They had wanted screams and pleading. Kingsley and Moody were not going to give them that satisfaction and apparently they were not going to be used for anything else. _

_"Very well then," said Bellatrix. "Good-bye. Avada Kedavra!"_

* * *

"NO!" Harry screamed, sitting straight up,

"Harry!" exclaimed Ginny.

Harry put his hands over his face and tilted his head back against the wall. He hugged his legs to his chest and rested his forehead on his knees. How could they be dead? Harry heard someone kneel beside him and put their hands on his shoulders. He looked up and saw Bill looking intently down at him.

"Did you see something?" he asked gently. Harry nodded miserably. "What was it?"

"Moody and Kingsley were caught at the Ministry. They're...They're dead," he whispered, ignoring the faces of the people around him and staring down at his knees.

"Are you sure that's what you saw?" Bill asked looking down with worry at Harry. Again Harry nodded. Bill stood up quickly and looked to Ron and Ginny.

"I'm going to Grimmauld Place. Take care of Harry," he said and with a crack he was gone.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked, pulling Harry to his feet.

He shook his head and ran back into the bathroom. Harry dropped to his knees again; only this time, he didn't feel sick. He just needed to be alone. He sat on the edge of the tub and gripped his hair in his fingers. A sob tore from his throat and hot tears cascaded down his cheeks.

More people were dying. How could this have happened? Moody was the most cautious person he knew and yet he'd somehow been caught. What was his world coming to?

"I'm going to end all this," his whispered.

* * *

"Please, Harry, eat something." Ginny tried to persuade Harry to eat, but he flat out refused. Ron had tried his hand at pleading with his friend, but he had been unsuccessful. He'd sent in Ginny in hopes that his sister could talk some sense into his best friend.

"For me?" Ginny pleaded. Harry glared at her and grabbed the bowl. He drained it and handed the dish back to her with an "are-you-happy-now?" look on his face.

She set the dish on Harry's bedside table and sat down on the bed next to him. She felt his forehead and his cheeks. He no longer felt cold and clammy. Actually, he was burning up.

Harry closed his eyes under her cool touch. Her soft hands felt wonderful on his forehead. He reached up and held her hand in place. "Harry, you're burning up." She removed her hand from his face, but a wet rag quickly replaced it.

Harry stared at her as she wandered around his new room, admiring his things and reminiscing about his past years at Hogwarts. She looked so different from the little girl Harry had known in his early days at school. Somehow they all looked different, like what they had seen in the past seven years had changed them physically as well as mentally.

After a few minutes, Harry fell into a light sleep and Ginny was able to slip out of his room. She wandered to Ron's room, and found the light still on. She knocked quietly and entered. Her brother sat at his desk, head in hands, pouring over a lengthy essay. His head snapped up as his sister entered the room.

"I just wanted to tell you that he's finally asleep," she said, closing the door behind her.

"Thanks, Gin," he said, a weary smile playing across his lips.

"Is Bill home yet?" Ginny asked.

Ron sighed and shook his head. "I can't help but wonder if Harry's dream might have been right." He met his sister's gaze. "Get some sleep," he told her, ushering her out the door. "I'm sure everything will be fixed by morning."

* * *

As midnight crept closer, Harry woke with a start. He lay in bed a moment, listening for sounds of movement from anyone else in the house. He heard nothing. Ignoring the protests from his aching body, Harry rolled out of bed and padded down to the kitchen. As he felt his way through the dark room, his foot caught one of the chairs and it flipped over with a crash.

Harry stiffened and prayed no one had heard the clatter. When no one came running down the stairs, he breathed again. Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, Harry headed for the drawer of cutlery near the sink. Grabbing the nearest knife, he set the sharp edge against his wrist and took a deep breath.


	4. Saving Grace

You tried so hard to be someone that you forgot who you are

You tried to fill some emptiness till all you had spilled over

Now everything's so far away that you don't know where you are

All that you wanted

And all that you have done seem so much

For you to hold on to

For you to hold on to

For you to belong to

Hold On—Jet

Chapter 4 Saving Grace 

"Bill? Is that you?" Ginny's small voice rang through the hall. She stepped into the room and her wand illuminated her shocked face. "Harry…what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Harry's strained voice asked back through the dark. Silence. "I'm tired of watching people I love die."

"What happens to those loved ones who are alive if you kill yourself, Harry?" He didn't answer. She continued. "I'll tell you what happens; Voldemort wins, and you condemn us all to die too. You might be ready to quit, but I am _not_ about to give up now."

"Death has to be better than this," Harry said, pushing the knife harder against his skin so that a thin line of blood oozed out.

"Can you be sure of that?" She walked closer to Harry. "And think of all the people you'd be hurting if you left them. I know Dumbledore's worked too hard all your life to see you end it now. What about Ron…and Hermione? What about me? Would you really do that to us? I thought you cared about us more than that."

"I do, Ginny! That's why I'm doing this. I just don't wanna see anyone else get hurt because of me," Harry said as the tears he'd been holding back finally spilled onto his cheeks.

Ginny stared at him. "But Harry, you've got so much going for you, Quidditch, grades, friends. If you kill yourself, you'll be throwing all that away."

"No," Harry said. "What does any of that matter now? Voldemort's going to win anyway. He won't care about grades."

"Don't do it, Harry," Ginny pleaded. She grabbed Harry's hands. "For me."

And Harry finally broke down. The knife he'd been holding slipped from his grasp and fell with a clatter to the floor. He sank to his knees and Ginny knelt beside him, hugging him.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed into her shoulder.

"Don't be," she said as a tear slid down her cheek.

* * *

A faint popping noise woke Ginny shortly after three in the morning. She raised her head from her arms and saw Bill standing in the kitchen.

"Ginny, what are you doing down her?"

"I couldn't sleep so I came down for a snack and I guess I fell asleep," she lied quickly, not wanting to relate to Bill what had happened with Harry.

Bill sat down heavily in the chair across from Ginny and put his face in his hands. "Go back to bed, Gin," he said through his fingers.

Ginny kissed Bill goodnight and headed back up the stairs to her room, unable to shake the feeling she'd gotten from the look on her brother's face.

* * *

Harry woke the next morning unsure of what the day would hold. He still held out a small hope that the vision had possibly been a hoax to lure him into Voldemort's grasp yet again. That all changed, though, when he saw Bill's face.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Harry, why don't you sit down," Bill said, standing and offering Harry his seat. Harry sat, looking apprehensive. Any conversation that started with a "why don't you sit down" was not a good one.

"What you saw last night was the Death Eaters taking over the Ministry. Kingsley and Mad-Eye were there to speak with Fudge."

"And…" Harry pressed.

"Everyone loyal to Dumbledore or Fudge was killed. Percy, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and Fudge are dead, Harry, along with countless others."

"Wait," said Ron, jumping to his feet. "What do you mean Percy's dead?"

"I mean, Ron, Percy was working late last night and a Death Eater found him."

Harry clenched his fists in his lap. He'd been so sure that the dream hadn't been real. He was silent for a while, and then he said, "I'm sorry. Percy was your brother. You shouldn't have to deal with this but…" Unable to finish, he stood and walked out the back door.

He wandered for while, lost in thought, until he reached the edge of the pond that sat on the Weasley's property. He leaned against a tree and stared into the murky water.

Harry didn't return to the house at all that day. He remained out by the pond, thinking. As the sun started to set and the first stars of the evening began winking at the world below, Ginny went out and sat next to him in the grass. He was tossing rocks into the water and didn't seem to notice her arrival.

"Harry," she said tenderly. "Why don't you come inside?"

"I'm just not ready yet, Gin," he said, looking for more rocks to throw. When none were found, he put his hands behind his head and lay down to stare at the stars.

"They're bright tonight, aren't they?" Ginny said conversationally, mimicking Harry's position.

"Yeah. Ginny, how did you find me out here?"

"This is where I used to go when Fred or George got to be a little too much. I'd hide out here and no one could ever find me. Frightened Mum into a frenzy one time."

Harry didn't say anything.

"You know, it's not your fault," Ginny said as if reading his mind. She turned her head to look at Harry.

"I know," he said, still staring at the sky. "I just wish I could have done something."

"There was nothing you could do; nothing anyone could have done."

"But still—"

"No, Harry. Stop blaming yourself for this! You can't do anything about the past and that's what this is. There's only one person you can truly blame and that's Voldemort."

Harry stared at her. He sat up and hung his head. "I'm sorry about Percy. I'm sorry for putting you through this."

"See! There you go blaming yourself again."

"No, I'm not. I just don't know what to say to you about all this. I don't know how to help and that scares me!"

"Harry, you're already doing everything you can," Ginny said, taking Harry's face in her hand and stared into his green eyes. A shiver ran down Harry's spine but he stared right back. "You've been through more than anyone else I know. You've handled it better than a full-grown wizard could have and you're only seventeen. No one expects more or less than what you've given."

"Harry. Ginny. You guys had better come in. It's getting dark," came Ron's voice from across the lawn.

There was a sudden change of mood as they entered the cramped living room. Ron's eyes were puffy and rimmed with red and Bill sat with his head in his hands. They both glanced at Harry and Ginny when they walked in but neither said anything.

Harry looked a Ginny and found that she had started to cry. He sat and took hold of Ginny's hand. She squeezed his hand tight, and Harry didn't let go. He comforted her, because it was the only thing he could do.


	5. A Brief Return to Normalcy

Hey...soooooo anytime anyone feels like commenting just go right ahead. really i have noooooooo problem with it. oh and if i messed any words up to these songs im sorry but i really suck at actually understanding singers. just pretend thats what they said and im sure we'll all get along just peachy. happy trails to u then!

* * *

Mary belongs to the words of a song

I try to be strong for her, try not to be wrong for her

But she will not wait for me anymore, anymore

Why did I say all those things before I was sure?

She is the one

But I have a purpose

She is the one

And I have to fight this

She is the one

The villain I can't knock down

I see your face with every punch I take

And every bone I break

It's all for you

And my worst pains are words I cannot say

Still I will always fight on for you

Mary's alive in the bright New York sky

The city lights shine for her

Above them I cry for her

Everything's small on the ground below, down below

What if I fall then where would I go, would she know?

Gifts and Curses—Yellowcard

**Chapter 5 A Brief Return to Normalcy**

As the weeks passed, the Weasley's began the slow return to life as they had once known it. It was Harry, however, who noticed as he cleared the table one day, that it was August 31st, the day before their return to Hogwarts.

They used Floo Powder to get to Diagon Alley, seeing as Ginny wasn't of age and couldn't Apparate yet. As the three teens made their way through the crowded streets (Bill had stayed home to tidy up the Burrow before everyone left) a familiar drawl made Harry cringe.

"Why, is that Potty, Weasel, and Red?" Draco Malfoy came strutting up to them, sneering.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ginny snapped, glaring at him.

"Nothing," he said, feigning a hurt look. "I was just wondering if my three best friends had figured out who the new Head Boy is. Is that so wrong?"

"Well, you're out of luck, Malfoy," Ron sneered. "We don't know. Of course, you probably do because your dear old daddy knows everything."

Malfoy stiffened at the mention of his father and his eyes went oddly blank. He quickly shook off the look and recovered his normal attitude.

"For your information, Weasley, I don't know."

"Well, I do," said Harry, grinning mischievously.

"Really?" said everyone in disbelief.

"Who?" said Malfoy after Harry was silent a moment.

"Me."

"Of course, you always were Dumbledore's favorite."

"Believe it or not, I earned it, Malfoy."

"Whatever…" he said as he turned and stormed off.

"Harry, why didn't you tell us?" Ginny asked as they continued walking.

Harry shrugged. "In case you haven't noticed, things have been a bit crazy lately."

"Well, you're going to busy this year," said Ron fighting a grin. "N.E.W.T.'s, Quidditch, Head Boy duties…Do you plan to eat or sleep this year?"

"Speaking of Quidditch, have you heard from Hermione lately?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but what does Quidditch have to do with her?" Ron said, turning slightly red at the mention of her name.

"I was just wondering if she was going to stick with it. And what about you guys? Are you staying with the team?"

Ginny nodded and Ron said, "Yeah, Hermione and I are staying with you."

"Great. So we only have to fill three positions, one Chaser and two Beaters. Any ideas?"

"Well, Dean and Seamus are going to try out as Beaters, I know that," Ron said. "But I don't know what to tell you about a Chaser."

"Dennis Creevy," Ginny put in. "From what Collin says, he's and excellent flyer and he's always wanted to be a Chaser."

Harry grinned. "So we'll have a whole team again."

"Ron, Harry, Ginny! Over here!" someone yelled. Harry looked in the direction of the shout and saw Hermione sitting with her parents at the ice cream parlor. She looked very different than she did last year. Her hair had lost its bushiness over the summer, and she was very tan. Apparently Europe had agreed with her.

"Mother, Father, I'd like you to meet my best friends, Ron, Harry, and Ginny."

Hermione's mother leaned over to her daughter and asked, "Is that the boy you've been writing to all summer?"

Hermione looked at Ron and nodded.

"Well, it was very nice to meet all of you. You should come for dinner sometime. But, we really must be running. I'll see you next year, sweetie," said her father. He hugged Hermione and said a quick "I love you."

"Dad," Hermione said, pushing him away. He chuckled and walked away with his wife.

"How are you guys?" she asked, kissing Ron.

"Harry's Head Boy," Ron said immediately.

Hermione squealed and hugged Harry tightly. "This is wonderful! I'd hoped you'd get it," she shrieked. The she turned to Ginny. "Has anything exciting happened with you?"

"Not really," she lied.

* * *

"So, Hermione, where are you staying?" Ginny asked as they walked into the Leaky Cauldron for a bite to eat.

Hermione glanced at Ron. "Hasn't Ron told you? I'm staying with you tonight. Why didn't you tell them?" she asked.

Ron shrugged.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Ginny. "So, how is everyone? Bill, Fred, George, Percy…How are they?"

Ginny closed her eyes and pursed her lips. She took a deep breath and answered slowly, "Bills taking care of us the best he can. Fred and George are doing great with their joke shop. But Percy…well, he was killed when the Death Eaters took over the Ministry. So were Kingsley, Moody, and Fudge."

Hermione gasped and looked at Harry. "Did you see it?" she asked.

Harry nodded.

"Maybe we should go?" Ron said, staring at the ceiling in an obvious attempt to keep from crying. One by one, they agreed and rose from the table, leaving their untouched food.


	6. Heading Home

So we're talking forever

You almost feel better

But better's no excuse for tonight

You see, it's never been enough to just leave or give up

But it's never good enough to feel right

Now I'm lying on the table with everything you said

Well I'll catch up eventually

We'll get caught up and honestly

The way that my decisions were impossible to hold

They were never yours

This Photograph is Proof (I Know You Know)—Taking Back Sunday

Chapter 6 Heading Home 

They returned to the Burrow in low spirits. Bill, however, greeted them in the living room, smiling. It became evident immediately why as Fred and George came tramping down the stairs.

Ginny squealed and ran to hug them. The twins greeted each in turn but they stopped when they got to Harry. "You'd better take care of our room," Fred said.

"Yeah, and if you find any tricks or experiments lying around send them our way," said George with a smile.

"Will do," Harry said, grinning back.

"So, are you ready for seventh year? Planning any pranks to keep the Head Boy and Girl busy?"

"Well, seeing as I'm Head Boy and Hermione's Head Girl, I'm thinking no," he said with a chuckle.

The twins glanced at each other. "As long as you're not like Percy…" Fred said, stopping abruptly at the mention of his brother's name.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "It must be hard."

"Yeah, well, it's not like he was that great to us anyway," George commented, looking around to make sure no ones was listening in. "I just wish we could have been closer, you know," he continued, apparently satisfied that they weren't being overheard. Fred nodded his agreement.

"But, we really must be going," George said briskly. "Everyone, it was great to see you again. Come visit us sometime," and they were gone.

* * *

Harry got out of bed the next morning at six. He did not want to be pushed for time this year. He double and triple checked to make sure everything was packed and finally traipsed downstairs with his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

He was going back; returning to the one place where everything would always be all right, no matter what. It was one of the only places where he felt that he'd always belonged.

He grabbed a piece of toast from the table and sat chatting merrily with everyone, counting down the hours till they left.

Around nine, everyone piled into Bill's new car and headed to King's Cross Station. Passing through the barrier between platforms nine and ten seemed so easy now, compared to how lost he'd felt his first year at Hogwarts.

Ten minutes later, the group was saying their good-byes, knowing very well that it might be the last time they saw Bill, who was leaving for business with the Order the next night. What exactly this business was, he wouldn't say.

"Thank you for everything," Harry said, extending his hand to Bill. Bill, however, did not settle for a handshake. He drew Harry into a tight hug, embracing him like his own brother, also sensing that he might never see his family again. "Take care of yourself," Bill whispered. "And Ron and Ginny, too."

The group boarded the train, Ginny sobbing openly. Harry put an arm around her to comfort her and waved back at Bill who smiled. "Thanks, Harry!" he called back to him.

"You're welcome," Harry said to himself.

Hermione turned to her friends. "Harry and I have to go to the very front. Why don't you all go to the prefect's compartment and wait for us."

Hermione and Harry headed for the front, chatting about their summers. Harry left out most of the details of his holiday, but Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to have had a great summer. She and her parents had visited every country in Europe, as planned. "But, it's good to be back," she finished as she slid the door open to the compartment they'd be meeting in.

Their talk was interrupted by a crack like a whip as Dobby the house-elf appeared before them. "Excuse me, Mr. Harry Potter, but Dumbledore is sending Dobby to give these to you," he said after greeting Harry.

Harry looked down at the paper. They were his Head Boy instructions. "Why doesn't someone come talk to us? I thought we'd be meeting someone."

Dobby answered back tentatively, "Someone was planning to come but something at school came up. I'm sorry, but Dobby must return," and with a low bow he was gone.

Harry glanced back down at the parchment in his hand. "Our own bathrooms?" he asked, staring at the letter. He smiled.

Once they'd assigned the prefects their jobs, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny sat talking in the prefect's compartment. Hermione soon became bored with their endless babble and pulled out a copy of The Quibbler.

"Herm," Ron said, using her nickname. She never let anyone but him get away with that. "I thought you didn't believe the stories in there. Why are you reading it?"

She shrugged and continued reading. "They don't print so much rubbish anymore."

Harry stared at the cover, looking over the headlines. One in particular caught his eye. "New Hope for Werewolves," it read. "Can I see that, Hermione?" Harry asked, reaching for the magazine. Harry flipped to the article and began to read.

_The cure is finally here for those among us know as werewolves. Feared and resented by most of the magical community, these men and women have been unable to find employment anywhere. Now, a new injection is changing all that._

_The shot is administered once a month, before the full moon. The human will then be unable to transform into the wolf and, therefore, pose no threat. Only trained Healers may prescribe or administer the injection._

Harry grinned and passed to article to Ron and Hermione. "I'll bet Lupin's thrilled."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" spat Ginny.

Harry's head snapped up. Sure enough, Draco Malfoy was standing over them. Malfoy ignored her. "Out in the hall, Potter."

"Why?" he asked indignantly.

"Just go!"

Harry stood and caught Ron's eye, whose brows were raised. Ron nodded, then waited a beat and went to the door, where he listened in on the conversation, ready to help his friend if he should need it.

"What's all this about, Malfoy?" Harry asked curtly.

"You need to get Hermione's parents out of their village tonight."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's going to be an attack tonight. You need to warn them."

"Why should I believe you?" Harry asked, turning to head back into the compartment.

Suddenly, he was wheeled around and shoved against the wall of the corridor. Malfoy grabbed the collar of Harry's robes in his fists and pushed his face closer. "Because I'm telling the truth!" he hissed through gritted teeth as his gray eyes flared with anger. "The Dark Lord is going to attack tonight! You can either believe me or let your best friends parents die."

Harry wrenched away from Malfoy. "You have never given me a single bloody reason to trust you. Why should I start now?"

"Damn it, Potter, I'm trying to help you!"

Harry stared back, confused. "Why? You, who have always made my life miserable, are suddenly trying to 'help' me, and you want me to believe you. What do you take me for?"

"You don't get it do you," he muttered, running his fingers through his silver blond hair. He turned on his heel and started to walk away. Then he stopped as if he'd just thought of something and spun back around. "Fine. But this will all be on your head," he said, poking Harry hard in the chest with his finger. Then he turned and walked away.

Ron came out of the compartment. "What was that?" he asked, staring at Malfoy's retreating back.

Harry shrugged. "Do you think he's telling the truth?"

Ron shook his head. "His dad's a Death Eater. Besides, the slimy git's never told the truth before. It's probably a trap."

"Maybe I should tell Hermione."

"No, I wouldn't. It would just worry her."

"For some reason though, I don't think he would make that up. I'll tell her, and she can take it how she wants to," he said as they walked back inside.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Malfoy had an interesting message for you. He told me you need to get your parents out of their village because Voldemort's going to attack it tonight," Harry said, sitting across from Hermione.

Hermione cocked her head. "Do you think he's telling the truth?"

Harry shrugged.

* * *

"I'm starving. When are the first years coming?" Ron was staring longingly at his empty golden plate. "It seems like they take longer every year."

"No, you're just hungrier," said Hermione absentmindedly, scanning the teacher's table. Ron mocked her behind her back.

Harry laughed and looked at the head table. "Ugh, Snape's still here. Hmmm… who's the Defense Against the… Oh my gosh! Tell me that isn't who I think it is," Harry said slapping Ron's arm hard to get his attention.

"That's…That's Lupin!" Ron cried, sitting straighter in his chair to get a better look.

"He's back?" Ginny asked.

"He's back!" Hermione exclaimed, bringing her hands to her mouth.

"Do you think he's really staying?" Harry asked. However, no one answered because the new first years began filing in at that moment. Most, Harry noticed, had varying expressions of terror etched across their faces.

All eyes turned to Professor McGonagall who brought a decrepit old hat to the front of the room and set it down on a wobbly looking three-legged stool. A rip near the brim opened and the hat began to sing.

I combined the songs from first and fifth years to make this song cuz I have no poetic ability at all. Just pretend that no one's ever heard this before.

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep you bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started,_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

_"Together we will build and teach!"_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might someday be divided._

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach those_

_Whose ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor," We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds in their name."_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same."_

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and rears._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with the fighting_

_And the clash of friend of friend._

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died down_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the Houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into Houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I wonder that its wrong._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you…_

_Let the sorting now begin._

Harry glanced uneasily at his friends. The Sorting Hat had been warning Hogwarts since his fifth year but somehow this year's song seemed to worry him more than usual. He had a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't quite explain. Something bigger than ever would happen this year. Harry mentally shook himself and clapped along with the rest of the school.

As the applause died down, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and called forward the first student (Applebee, Cynthia) to try on the Sorting Hat. The Great Hall waited with bated breath as a frightened girl with dark brown hair crept forward. The hat had barely touched her head before it called out "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry scanned through the line of first years. Mark Evans waved to him, grinning broadly. Then he was called to the stool, where he sat with a hopeful expression on his face. Harry crossed his fingers under the table. The hat thought a moment. It opened the its mouth to give an answer, but it snapped shut again. Three times it did this. Finally, the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Yes!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet to welcome Mark to the table.

"I take it you know him," Ron said.

"This is Mark. He lives a few blocks away from me."

Harry's friends greeted him in turn.

The Sorting Ceremony crept slowly on and still no one else had been sorted into Gryffindor. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had the usual amount of new students and Slytherin had nearly twice as many as last year. Harry turned to ask if anyone else had noticed this too, but stopped as a horrible pain shot through his scar and his stomach gave and excited lurch.

Harry clapped a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "I will not get sick," he willed himself, remembering the last time his scar had hurt. Taking a deep, calming breath, he opened his eyes and glanced back at the Sorting Hat as if nothing had happened.

A small, blond haired boy sat nervously on the stool. His eyes were shut tight and he seemed to be whispering something to the hat. Harry looked closer and saw the boy's mouth form the word "Gryffindor" again and again. After a few more minutes of silence, the hat finally called out its answer.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Confused, Harry watched the boy slouch over the Slytherin table. "I don't get it," said Harry to Ron. "He wanted in Gryffindor."

Ron shrugged. "Well, I mean who wouldn't want in Gryffindor? We've got the best Quidditch team, the best reputation. Poor bloke got put in Slytherin though."

By the end of the ceremony, only three first years had been sorted into Gryffindor.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked, staring at the over crowded Slytherin table. Harry shrugged. At least he wasn't crazy. There _were _more students in Slytherin this year. His thoughts, however, were interrupted as the headmaster stood. A hush quickly fell over the Great Hall as Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. All eyes turned his way as he held up a hand unnecessarily to quiet the students.

"I'm sure you are all just a tad bit hungry, so I'll save the speech making for later," he said, a twinkle visible in his blue eyes. "For now, tuck in!"

"Best thing anyone's said all day," said Ron, picking up his knife and fork as plates upon plates filled with meats, puddings, and other assorted food items appeared all along the tables. Harry loaded his plate with every intention of eating, but as he ate in silence, worry began to creep into the back of his mind, and he soon lost his appetite.

Somehow this years Sorting Ceremony worried him. The addition of so many new Slytherins had sent his mind reeling. The warning of Malfoy, however farfetched it seemed, rattled his nerves also. He finally decided some serious talking with his friends and other members of the Order was needed.

"Why aren't you eating?" Ginny whispered, startling Harry out of his thoughts.

Harry shrugged. "Not hungry I guess."

He waited impatiently for the feast's end. The plates emptied as the food appeared to melt away and Dumbledore stood again. He cleared his throat and the students all turned to face him, some with dreamy expressions on their faces, due no doubt to the large quantity of food they had just consumed.

"Welcome! It's great to have you all here. I hope everyone had a pleasant summer (Harry snorted) but it's time to get back to business. I would like to introduce, or _re_introduce to some of you, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin."

The applause within the Great Hall was tumultuous, particularly at the Gryffindor table. Only the Slytherins defiantly didn't clap. Lupin wasn't very popular amongst them. The new professor humbly stood and waved to familiar faces in the crowd before sitting down.

Dumbledore continued when the applause finally died down. "Mr. Filch would also like to remind you all that magic is off limits in the corridors between classes. The full list of restrictions is still posted in his office if anyone would like to view them." A knowing smile crept across his face and his eyes twinkled mischievously. Harry knew exactly what the man was thinking. It was highly unlikely that any student would dare venture into the caretaker's office. Most students hated Filch and lived to torment him anyway.

"Also, first years, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds. And if anyone is interested in trying out for the Quidditch team, make sure to talk to your team captain. And now, I'm sure you're all very tired. Prefects, please lead the way back to the Common Rooms. I shall see you all in the morning."

Harry stood and made a beeline for the Head Table. He wanted to talk to Lupin more than anything. Someone from the outside magical world was within the very walls of Hogwarts. He needed to know what had happened over the summer.


	7. Letting Go

Hey i keep forgetting to tell you all that i wrote this before i fully understood book 5 and way before 6 came out so if some of it doesn't go with the actual story just go with it. thats what fanfiction is for right?

* * *

Chapter 7 Letting Go

"Professor Lupin!" Harry called, waving an arm over his head.

"Harry!" Lupin cried back, watching him fight his way through the crowd. The professor greeted Harry with a warm fatherly embrace then held him back at arms length. "It's been so long. You look more like your father every time I see you."

Harry grinned. "It's great to see you! Have you tried that new vaccination? Is that why you're here? What happened this summer? How are things at—"

Lupin put a hand over Harry's mouth. "Not here…come to my office tonight. Use your invisibility clo—." He stopped and looked over Harry's shoulder. "Ah, Ginny, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Professor," she said, grabbing Harry's arm. She pulled his ear closer and whispered, "Ron and Hermione are waiting in the common room."

Harry looked up. "Well, Professor, I'll see you later," he said, turning away with Ginny at his side.

Harry and Ginny entered the Common Room and headed for Ron and Hermione who were deep in conversation. Harry sat in his favorite armchair by the fire and Ginny sat on the armrest next to him. He was reminded intensely of last year when the four of them had nothing better to do but make plans to get Snape sacked or Malfoy expelled.

"What's up?" Ginny asked.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a nervous glance before Ron answered. "What was it you were telling me about that one boy, Harry?"

"He kept telling the hat he wanted in Gryffindor. But it put him in bloody Slytherin."

"Okay. That's what I told Hermione. She agrees with me on this, too."

"Agrees with what?"

"Well, Harry," Hermione stepped in, sensing Ron's uneasiness, "you know Voldemort's certainly stepped up the attacks on people around you, so that must mean that he's going to come after you soon." Harry nodded to show he understood. "We think," she continued, "that since the Slytherins all seem to know each other, maybe the Death Eaters are sending their kids to Hogwarts as spies. I mean, some of them have always gone here, but now, there's just too many to be a coincidence. The closer they are to you, the better it is for Voldemort."

Harry blew out a breath through his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So basically, I can't trust anyone I don't already trust."

Ron nodded.

"Well, that's just great. What am I going to do?"

"About what?" Ginny asked.

"My life. I've never exactly been a normal child but this makes it worse."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't talk to people. It's our seventh year so you have to have some fun. You'll just have to be really careful this year," Hermione said. Harry stared at her. The most cautious one in their group was telling him that is was okay to basically be normal this year. She stood up and stretched. "Well, I'm going to bed. G'night everyone."

Coming back to his senses, Harry said, "Oh, right…Careful. Like that's ever helped me before." Harry rose and headed up the staircase to get his invisibility cloak. "I've got to go visit Lupin so I'll be back later," he told Ron. "Don't wait up."

Twenty minutes later, Harry knocked on Lupin's office door. It opened and the professor stood back to let Harry in. "Hello, Professor," he said, removing his father's cloak.

"Harry, I'm glad you could make it," Lupin answered, taking a seat behind his desk and motioning for Harry to sit also. "Now, perhaps, I can answer some of your questions. Would you like some tea?"

"Sure," Harry said, accepting a cup and staring around the room. It looked much the same as it had in his third year, back when he'd first met Sirius… The memories flooded back to him and he blinked a bit before saying, "So, have you tried that new vaccination?"

Lupin grinned. "One of the first to use it. It works wonders!"

"So, I assume that's why you decided to come back here."

Lupin nodded. "I didn't think the memories would be so strong though." He smiled weakly.

"What happened this summer at the Ministry?" Harry asked hastily, changing the subject.

Lupin's features suddenly darkened. "Alastor and Kingsley were talking with Fudge that night. I'm pretty sure it was about something Dumbledore wanted done, but I'm not completely positive." Harry took a sip of his tea and nodded. "Well, as you know, the Death Eaters took over that night. They tried to get information out of Percy, Fudge, Mad-Eye, and Kingsley by torturing them. Fudge didn't last long; he always was a weak one. Moody and Kingsley didn't give up a thing, though."

"But what about Percy?"

"He did give up information. He told the Death Eaters what was hidden in the Department of Mysteries."

"But, Professor, what _is_ hidden there? Dumbledore only said it had something to do with my heart, but that could mean a lot of things."

"That, Harry, I cannot tell you. If Professor Dumbledore hasn't told you yet then it's for good reason."

Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled. "I don't think you know just how tired I am of hearing that."

"I can only imagine. But now if you don't mind, I'd like to hear how your summer was, aside from the obvious."

Harry frowned. "Well, my uncle picked up a new bad habit. He likes to drink… a lot. Dudley is still beating up little kids. And they all still hate me. But other than that, my summer was great." Harry said lamely.

"Are you going to go back next summer?"

"Only for a little while. Ron is letting me stay with him when I'm not there."

"That's good. I was going to tell you that you could stay with me if you needed a place. I don't like the idea of you being at the Dursley's more than you have to be."

"Thanks for the offer."

Harry yawned widely and draped the Invisibility Cloak over his arm as he began to climb the staircase to his dormitory shortly after midnight. He hadn't realized how tired he was. He was definitely going to regret this in the morning.

Slowly he pushed the door open to his room to prevent it from creaking. A smile crept across his face at the sight of the five four-poster beds and the sound of his four roommates' snores. "Just like always," he muttered, pulling his pajamas out of his trunk and stuffing the cloak in their place.

As he closed the lid of his trunk, a pain known all to well to Harry shot through his scar. He drew in a sharp breath and clapped a hand over his forehead, wishing the pain would stop. Quickly it reached such a pitch that Harry dropped to his knees at the foot of his bed. As his vision swam and darkness threatened to engulf him, panicked voices raced through his head.

_"Who is that?" came a male voice Harry couldn't quite place._

_"I don't know. But I get the feeling we should not stay in the house." This time the speaker sounded like a frightened female._

_"Oh, lighten up. He won't come to our house." It was the male again, only now Harry could see him. It was Hermione's father. He and his wife were staring out their bedroom window at a group of people in black cloaks moving slowly down the street._

_In the lead of the group was a man who didn't bother with hiding his face. There was the face that had haunted Harry's dreams for the past six years. Lord Voldemort was leading his Death Eaters through the quiet Muggle village, blasting away anything in his path._

_When he reached the middle of the street he stopped and motioned with his hand. The Death Eaters fanned out to the front walk of each home._

_"We shouldn't stay here," Hermione's father said as he rolled out of bed and headed for the back door._

_"Brilliant deduction," his wife said sarcastically, following him._

_Hermione's father put a finger to his lips as he pulled open the back door. He poked his head out and squinted through the darkness. As he stepped from the house, Harry heard the words "Avada Kedavra" shouted and saw Hermione's father fall to the floor, eyes wide and staring, and his mouth slightly open in surprise. _

_Hermione's mother screamed and fell to her knees beside her husband, desperately trying to wake him. When she finally looked up, a tall man in a black cloak had his wand pointed directly at her heart._

"_What do you want?" she asked, drawing herself up to her full height._

"_Nothing from you, you filthy Muggle," he spat back._

_She stepped back as the man muttered the deadly words again. Then she crumpled to the floor atop her husband._

Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying face down on his dormitory floor with his face pushed into his palms and his heart beating dangerously fast. His scar burned dully and his head pounded so badly it hurt to move.

Quick as lightening, Harry raced to the door and yanked it open. He sprinted down the staircase and jumped the last five steps. The he turned and headed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. For the first time he was allowed to climb them.

Harry kept climbing until he reached the seventh year room. There he stood pounding wildly on the door, yelling for Hermione. When she finally came to the door, Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her out the room, then reached past her and slammed the door shut.

"Hermione, I just had another vision," Harry panted, still out of breath from the mad dash he'd made.

"Harry, how did you get up here?"

"Never mind that," he yelled. He grabbed her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. "I had another vision," he repeated. "It was about your parents. Voldemort attacked their village, just like Malfoy said," he gasped hurriedly between breaths.

"Harry, you just had a nightmare," Hermione said forcefully, loosening his grip on her shoulders. "Now, go back to bed." She turned to go back into her room.

"No, Hermione!" he yelled, grabbing her elbow. "I'm telling you, this wasn't a nightmare. It was just like the one I had last time."

"But your visions have been wrong before. And you said yourself that we can't trust anyone we don't already trust, including Malfoy."

"My visions haven't been wrong since I mastered Occlumency."

"Harry, it just can't be true…it can't be," Hermione argued as her eyes filled with tears. Harry nodded and the tears splashed down onto her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said, pulling her into a tight hug.

"No," she moaned again and again into his shoulder.

"Miss Granger," said a stern voice from the top of the stairs, "the Headmaster would like a word with you."

Harry turned and found Professor McGonagall in her tartan bathrobe watching them sadly. Ginny poked her head our from behind her and blinked at the sight of Harry.

As Hermione walked past them, swiping at the tears, McGonagall said, "I guess it would be pointless to tell you to go to sleep, Potter." Harry nodded. "Then perhaps you should come with us. I daresay the Headmaster will want to speak with you about this."

Harry followed her downstairs, Ginny at his side. "Harry what's going on?"

"I don't know, Ginny," he said miserably. He stopped at the portrait hole. "Look, just wait up for me. I'll talk to you when I get back."

Harry, Hermione, and Professor McGonagall continued down the dark and dismal hallways on their way to see Dumbledore. Hermione stared at her feet, sniffling the whole way. They stopped when they reached the stone gargoyle that led to the headmaster's office. Hermione wiped her eyes and Professor McGonagall said, "Fizzing Whizzbee." The spinning staircase appeared and Harry and Hermione stepped aboard. At the top, Harry raised a fist to knock on the door, but it opened on its own. Harry let Hermione go in first, then stepped through and closed the door behind them.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I am glad you are here. Please, sit down, both of you." He motioned to three seats, one of which was already taken. Harry stood and stared at Malfoy then lowered himself uneasily into a chair.

"Judging by your state, Ms. Granger, I assume that you have already heard what I am about to tell you. Well, perhaps I should not be the one to start this story," said Dumbledore, pity radiating from behind his half moon glasses. "Mr. Malfoy, would you please tell them what you just told me."

Malfoy took a deep breath. "As you already knew, Potter, my father was a Death Eater, and I was in line to become one as soon as I turned seventeen. I didn't really want to, to tell you the truth, because the power the Dark Lord has over his subjects scares me. But there was nothing I could do. It was expected of me because I came from a family of Death Eaters."

He pulled up his sleeve and showed them a mark on his arm shaped like a skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth. It was a dark black color, as if it had just been put there. Harry knew better though. Voldemort had just called his followers to Hermione's village using the brand.

Harry's hand went instinctively to the scar on his arm where he'd been pierced with the knife the night that Voldemort had returned. He seemed to feel the blade again, though the pain was a good deal duller this time. He shook his head.

Malfoy opened his mouth to speak again but he closed it and looked at his hands in his lap. He breathed deep again and spoke slowly. "My father was on business for the Dark Lord. Something beyond his control caused it to fail," he glanced at Harry. "Voldemort killed my father for it," he continued still staring at him.

With knitted brows, Harry gazed back. Then it dawned on him. "Last year, I got away…I didn't know that was your father," he said as the memories of his last meeting with Voldemort flooded back into his mind.

Malfoy nodded. "The Dark Lord cares no more for his followers than for his enemies. That's why is decided to become a spy. I tried to tell you on the train but I guess you were right. I really have never given you a reason to believe me," Malfoy gave a crocked grin. "Sorry."

Dumbledore spoke up. "I also regret that I wasn't available when you came to tell me the first time. Something might have been done to save those poor people."

Hermione sniffled. She had remained oddly silent throughout the whole story. Harry could only imagine her pain. The fact that they had been warned that her parents were going to be killed and the fact that they had ignored it had to be tearing her apart.

"In light of all this, Harry, I suggest that you go home for the Christmas holiday," said Dumbledore. "Home to the Dursleys."

"What? Sir, you can't be serious! You don't know what it's like there," Harry argued.

"I am sorry, Harry, but it is too dangerous here for you. The only place safe for you is Privet Drive. If it were up to me, I'd send you away now, but I can't do that to you in your seventh year."

"It's too dangerous for me there too! Why can't I go back to the Weasleys'?"

"What do you mean it's too dangerous at the Dursley's? Voldemort can't harm you there. That's why you have to live with them," said Dumbledore, leaning forward in his seat. Harry was very aware that Malfoy and Hermione were also staring at him.

"Please," begged Harry.

"No," said Dumbledore firmly. "Unless you can give me good reason why you can't go back, I'm afraid that you will have to leave Hogwarts this Christmas. It is, after all, only for a few weeks, and you'll be able to come back."

Harry clenched his jaw and stared at the ground.

"Now, I need to talk with Hermione alone, so if you'll excuse us. I'll send her along as soon as we're finished," said Dumbledore.

Harry and Malfoy rose and headed out the door and down the moving staircase. Harry waited till the stone gargoyle had closed up behind them before speaking.

"You were telling the truth," he said lamely.

"I told you I was, Potter."

"Well, can you blame me for not believing you! I mean you always hated me. Even in Diagon Alley you acted like you hated me."

"I had to keep up appearances. If I'm seen acting too buddy-buddy with you, I won't be able to spy anymore."

"You could have told me that on the train," said Harry irritably.

"Like you would have believed me," Malfoy spat.

Harry stopped and leaned against the stone wall, staring at the chinks of moonlight on the ground. "No, I guess I wouldn't have. I guess I really messed up this time."

"Yeah, you did. "

"Don't rub it in. I feel bad enough already. I let my best friends parents get killed when I knew about it, and all because of a stupid rivalry."

"I'm sorry. So do you think it's time for a truce," said Malfoy, almost hopefully it seemed.

Harry's head snapped up and he gave a weary grin. "Yeah, I think it is."

Malfoy stuck out a hand and Harry accepted.

Harry sat with his face in his hands in the Gryffindor Common Room, a little after two in the morning, waiting for Hermione's return. Ginny sat next to him, hugging her knees and staring at the dying embers of the fire. Neither said a word.

Finally, Harry slouched back in his seat and moaned, "I can't do this anymore."

"Harry, you should never have had to see any one of these deaths. You shouldn't have been put through any of the horrors of your life. But you have… That's all the more reason for you to keep fighting. Show Voldemort you're still here and he hasn't won yet."

"He might not have won yet, but he will. So why keep fighting?"

"Because your parents didn't die to save you so you could hand yourself over sixteen years later."

"But they wouldn't want this for me either."

"No, Harry, they wouldn't."

"How come you never came to bed last night? And have you seen Hermione this morning?" Ron asked at breakfast the next morning.

Harry grimaced. Of course Ron wouldn't know about last night. As luck would have it, he had been able to sleep easy while Harry worried about one of his best friends.

"Are you finished eating?" Harry asked, not wanting to discuss this with hundreds of gossiping kids around.

"I guess. Why?"

"Walk with me to class and I'll tell you."

Ron flipped his napkin onto his plate and walked out of the hall, looking expectantly at Harry who stared resolutely ahead of them, jaw set. Only when Harry found and empty classroom and made sure that Peeves was not hiding in it did he speak.

"I had another vision last night after I got back from Lupin's office."

Ron swallowed and looked his friend up and down. Harry's shoulders sagged as if an invisible weight sat upon them and deep lines etched themselves across his forehead. There were bags under his eyes and he looked almost as bad as when he had come to stay at the Burrow. Ron wondered to himself how he had not noticed the appearance of his friend earlier.

"A vision?" he asked. "About Hermione's parents?"

Harry nodded. Ron stood staring.

"And Malfoy was telling the truth, wasn't he?"

Harry sighed. "Yes. Hermione didn't believe me at first, but then McGonagall came for her so something obviously happened."

"How is she?"

Harry shrugged. "We'd better get to class."

Their first class was Transfiguration. Since Harry and Ron arrived early, Harry walked straight to Professor McGonagall who was preparing for class and looked almost as bad as him.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, it's good to see you here early."

"Excuse me, Professor, but how is Hermione?"

"She is excused from classes for today and at the moment she is sleeping in my office so she is not disturbed. You will see her this evening before bed not doubt," and she would say no more.

"What did she say?" Ron asked as Harry took his seat beside him and the rest of the class filed in.

"Hermione's in her office. She'll be back tonight."

"Is that all?"

Harry nodded.

"Settle down, class."

"Is it just me or have the teachers lost their minds?" said Ron, throwing down his quill down on the table in front of him.

"It's definitely the teachers," said Harry wearily as he put the final flourish on an essay for Transfiguration (Transfiguration Gone Wrong: Explain).

"Oh, come on," Ginny sighed, glancing over the top of a book she'd borrowed from the library. "It can't really be that bad, can it?"

"Yes," Harry and Ron said in unison, each throwing her a surprised glance.

"Why are they piling homework on us? N.E.W.T.'s aren't till the end of the year," complained Ron as he labored over a complicated star chart for one of the potions Snape was requiring them to brew.

"Well, if you two don't mind, I'm going bed," said Ginny as she snapped her book shut.

"Oh, no! We don't mind!" exclaimed Ron sarcastically. "We'll just sit here…alone…slaving over our homework while you rest you pretty little head on the soft, warm pillows that I _wish_ I could be enjoying!"

"Good. See you in the morning."

"She completely missed the point, didn't she? Hermione!" Ron stood quickly and rushed over to her. Harry followed close behind.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked, taking her hands up in his.

"No," she answered. "But I will be. I'm leaving in the morning for the funeral. But I'll be back soon. Where's Ginny?" she asked, glancing around at the emptying Common Room.

"She went to bed. You can probably catch her if you hurry," said Ron.

"Goodnight then," she said as she hurried off.

As the weeks passed, and life slowly returned to normal, or as normal as possible given the circumstances, Harry was hit with a problem. After glancing at a calendar, he realized that the first Quidditch game of the season was fast approaching. Before class he started posting announcements for Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts, to be held in exactly one week.

Harry awoke the morning of Quidditch tryouts a little later than he had intended but not quite as refreshed as he would have hoped. He walked alone to the Great Hall and was pleased to find that he was not the only one who had slept late. Students from the other houses were wandering into the Hall also. Apparently he hadn't been the only one up late studying. He quickly spotted Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"Morning," he said as he approached them.

"Welcome to the world of the living, Harry," said Ron, tossing him a piece of toast.

"I think I'll take this to go," Harry said. "I need to get down to the locker room before everyone else does."

"Hang on, Harry, I'm coming with you," said Ginny as she stood up. They headed down the sloping lawn to the Quidditch pitch chatting excitedly about potential players.

"That was great, guys. Look for the list in the common room sometime within the next few days," Harry said as Gryffindors landed around him.

After everyone left, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny headed back to the castle. "Ok, so there's no question about who's on the team is there? I mean, some of those kids didn't even know the difference between the Quaffle and the Bludgers." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Dennis was actually quite good," said Hermione. "I wonder why he's never tried out before."

"Probably the same reason you didn't try-out till last year. Too busy with schoolwork," Ron said.

Hermione glared at him. "You might do with a little less Quidditch and a little more schoolwork, Ron. I saw your last grade in Transfiguration."

A crimson flush worked its way up Ron's cheeks.

The next morning, Harry woke up and posted the new Gryffindor team list. Then he headed down with his friends for breakfast. As Harry finished his eggs and bacon, a booming voice shouted his name and he turned to find Hagrid standing in the doorway.

"Hiya, Hagrid!" Harry shouted back.

"I got somethin' for yeh, Harry. I think you'll like it. Come with me to class early and I can give it to yeh."

"Alright, I'll be right there," Harry said. "I'll see you guys later."

"What's all this about, Hagrid?" Harry asked as he trotted to keep up with the Gamekeeper.

"I finally got yeh yer birthday present, Harry. I think yer gonna like it," he answered as he opened the door to his hut. Harry watched Hagrid searching for something on his enormous nightstand. "Here it is," Hagrid exulted, holding out a grubby package to Harry. "Open it."

"Hagrid, you didn't have to, you know that."

"Course I know that, but I wanted to. Merlin knows you deserve it."

Harry smiled and hastily tore off the brown paper. He stared down at yet another book. He blinked and flipped through the pages. "What's this?" Harry asked, looking into the giant's face.

"It's a book of all the Quidditch teams. I know yeh wanna be a Seeker now, so maybe this will help yeh decide which team yeh wanna be on. Well we best be off. Don' want to be late to class."

"Thanks," Harry said as he hugged Hagrid tightly around the middle. The man patted Harry on the back once and they both stepped out in to the sunlight to wait for the rest of the class to arrive.

As the holidays approached, Harry's spirits sank. "You know," he told Ron one night, "I had really hoped that I wouldn't have to go back there again. Now I don't even get to spend my last Christmas at Hogwarts at Hogwarts!"

On Harry's last night in the castle, he packed his things. Hermione and Ron were working on something in the library, or so they said. Harry suspected otherwise. To pass the time, Ginny had come to keep Harry company. She lay on his bed watching him. As he finished throwing things into his trunk, he slammed it shut.

"I can't believe Dumbledore's actually making you go back. Did you tell him what they do to you?" Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head and sat down on the edge of his bed. "That's not exactly something I like to spread around too much. I am supposed to be the invincible Harry Potter, you know. Besides, I'm not safe from Voldemort anywhere else."

"I just don't feel right not telling him."

"He doesn't need to know. He has enough on his plate anyway."

"I know but still…you'll be back soon right?"

"I'm not going to stay there any longer than I have to," he said lying down next to Ginny. He rolled over onto his stomach and hugged his pillow to his chin. "You know Lupin offered to let me live with him over the summers too. I wish I could go there instead of the Dursleys,'" he continued as he stared blankly at his headboard.

"Christmas just isn't going to be the same without you," said Ginny, absentmindedly tracing the muscles on Harry's arm.

Harry felt a shiver race down his spine. He turned and looked Ginny in the eyes. He leaned in to kiss her but she leapt from his bed, and with a hurried apology she dashed out the door, leaving Harry open mouthed and speechless on his bed.

"What are you doing here?" Uncle Vernon asked as he opened the door.

Harry didn't say anything. He just handed his uncle a note from Dumbledore and walked through the doorway, dragging his trunk behind him. Uncle Vernon read the note with a look of distaste on his face. "All right," he said when he'd finished. "Get your stuff upstairs before any of the neighbors see you."

Harry lugged his trunk up the stairs and slammed his door. He didn't bother to unpack. Instead he threw himself onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd made up his mind. If he had to be here for two weeks, he was going to avoid the Dursleys as much as possible in that time.

For the first day or two, this worked out well. He only went out of his room to use the bathroom and just long enough to grab a meal and bring it back to his room. The rest of his time he spent reading the book from Hagrid he'd managed to smuggle into his room when the Dursleys locked all his magic things in his old cupboard, or he wrote to his friends. He put on a cheerful front for them, but really, he was bored out of his mind.

Harry was up in his room at the end of day two when he heard the doorbell ring. Figuring it wouldn't be for him, he ignored it and continued with his letter to Ron. His head snapped up when the door slammed downstairs and footsteps pounded up the stairs. Quickly, he rolled up the parchment and shoved it in a drawer. Then he threw himself on his bed and pretended he had been staring innocently at the ceiling.

Right on cue, the door to his bedroom burst open, and Uncle Vernon stormed in. Harry sat up.

"You told someone, didn't you?" he said, advancing on Harry.

"What do you mean? What did I tell who?" Harry asked.

"That boy, Mark; he was just here and he said something about your school. You know full well that we will not tolerate anyone knowing about your abnormality,"

"But I didn't tell him! He—" but his words were cut off when his uncle aimed a vicious backhand at him. Harry landed back on his pillow, his cheek stinging so that his eyes watered. He put a hand to his lip and felt it bleeding. He wiped it away and tried to finish his sentence. "I didn't tell him," he spluttered. "He goes to Hog—" again he was interrupted.

"Don't you lie, boy," Vernon growled.

"I'm not. He goes to my school," Harry gasped. "Geez, it's no wonder you lost your job and can't get another one," he muttered under his breath when his uncle turned his back to leave.

Vernon froze and turned back around. Harry gulped. He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. "What did you say?" Uncle Vernon snarled.

"Nothing," Harry said innocently.

His uncle walked back over to him and shoved his purple face in front of Harry. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," repeated Harry.

"No, you didn't," hissed Uncle Vernon, grabbing the back of Harry's neck. Harry cringed. "You're the reason I can't get another job, boy." He threw Harry on the floor.

A sudden rage bubbled to the surface and Harry could control it no longer. He glared up at his uncle and stood, drawing himself to his full height. "No," he whispered, anger flaring in his emerald eyes. "No. You can't blame this on me anymore. It's your fault you can't get a job." Harry enjoyed seeing the surprise in Uncle Vernon's eyes at the shock of being stood up to by a boy a quarter of his weight. He continued. "It's your fault your son picks on ten year olds and smokes an—and weighs 500 pounds. It's your fault your family has turned out like this, not mine. I am _not_ going to take this anymore."

Vernon drew back his hand but Harry dodged the blow. "That's not going to work anymore. I'm not afraid of you." He turned around and sat back down at his desk. The he pulled his letter out of the drawer and continued writing it.

His uncle stood behind him for a few moments, but with a growl he headed out the door, slamming it shut behind it. Harry set his quill down with shaking hands and reveled silently in his victory. His celebrating was cut short, however, when Uncle Vernon returned.

Harry whipped around in his chair and watched as his uncle snatched his letter off his desk and ripped it shreds. "Hey!" Harry shouted. Without a word, Vernon started going through all of Harry's drawers. When Harry attempted to stop him, he was pushed away. Eventually Uncle Vernon found what he was looking for because a maniacal grin came over his face. When he stood up, however, all he held in his hands were paper, ink, and Harry's quill.

"Let's see you get out of this," he said as he left Harry's room again. Harry ran to stop him but his door slammed in his face and he distinctly heard the lock click. Sure enough, when he tried the handle, he found it locked.

Harry banged on the door with his fists for ten minutes, but no one ever came to his aid. When he started to lose his voice, he moved over to his bed and sat down on it, trying to think of anyway that he could escape. He glanced over at his window, but his heart sank when he saw that the bars had been replaced from his second year. Slightly panicked, he raced over to his desk and searched for any shred of paper. Not a single sheet could be found. He straightened and tried to calm himself. Someone had to let him out sometime. They couldn't leave him locked up here forever.

With nothing else to distract him, Harry paced the floor of his room. When he got bored with that he lay down on his bed and counted the dots on the ceiling. He lost count around 569 and rolled onto his side for a better look at the clock. It was almost eleven o'clock at night. He went back to his door and started banging on it, hoping the sound would annoy one of the Dursleys enough so that they would let him out. When that didn't work, he tried a different approach. "I need to go to the bathroom!" he called. No one came. He kicked his wardrobe and paced his room a bit more before climbing into bed, hoping things would seem better in a different light.

He woke the next morning wondering why he felt so depressed. After a moment or two he remembered and ran to the door. It was still locked. Harry cursed under his breath. He pulled his desk chair up to the door and sat in it. He was going to get out of this room today. "Uncle Vernon," he called. No answer. "Aunt Petunia…Dudley…" he called over and over again. After half an hour, he heard someone coming up the stairs.

"What do you want?" asked Aunt Petunia through the door.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Harry called back.

Harry's hopes rose as he heard the lock sliding in the door. It opened and he was face to face with his uncle. Vernon grabbed his wrist and dragged him from the room and shoved him in the bathroom. Harry looked at the window. There was no way he would ever fit through that. Harry sat down on the edge of the tub and hung his head.

A few minutes later, his uncle called into him, "What are you doing in there, boy?"

"I'm going to take my shower."

"Hurry it up!"

Glad for the few extra minutes to think, Harry turned the water on. After a few moments, he stepped into the steaming water and let it run over him. His thoughts were interrupted by pangs of hunger and he couldn't focus. He didn't see how it was possible, but he hoped that his friends would come through for him as they had before.

Around six in the afternoon, Harry started to despair. The Dursleys had not been heard near Harry's door since Uncle Vernon had let Harry out in the morning. No food had been offered to Harry all day and he was starting to wonder if his family even planned on feeding him once on his holiday. He'd given up banging on his door and try as he might, he could find nothing in his room that could possibly help him.

Resigning himself to the fact that nothing could be done, Harry curled up on his bed, trying to ignore the sickeningly empty feeling in his stomach.

Harry was unaware that he had even fallen asleep until the next morning when a knock on his bedroom door woke him. The lock slid back in the door and in came Bill and Dumbledore.

"Professor? What are you doing here?" Harry asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"A good question, my boy. Yet the same could be asked of you. What are you doing here?"

"What? But, sir, you sent me back here."

"Yes, but you failed to tell me the whole story," answered the headmaster as he offered a hand to help Harry from his bed. "Thankfully your friends aren't so headstrong as you."

Harry swayed a bit as he stood up. "What do you mean, Professor?"

"Your Weasley friends seemed to think that had I known the whole story I wouldn't have sent you back here. And they're quite right. However, since they knew how much you objected to my knowing this important piece of information, they had to wait until you had left Hogwarts for the holiday."

"So where am I going then?"

Bill stepped in. "Back to the Burrow, at least for a while. I'll have to leave you again, so you'll be back at Hogwarts before Christmas."

"So, Harry, pack your things. Don't forget anything; I don't expect you'll be coming back," said Dumbledore calmly.

A wide grin slowly spread over Harry's face. "I won't be coming back…ever?"

"No. You belong with a real family."


	8. Career Advice Again

Just wanted to say thanks to anyone who actually took the time to read this far. This story had been up on here for more than a year and not one single person had read this until yesterday so thanks very much!

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Before you landed

I had a will but didn't know what it could do

You were abandoned

And still you're handing out what you don't wanna lose

You make me drop things like all the plans I had for a life without you

Someone to die for

Someone to fall into when the world goes dark

Someone to Die For—Jimmy Gnecco featuring Brian May

Chapter 8 Career Advice Again

The next morning, Harry lay in bed looking through all the different Quidditch teams. His head snapped up from his book when someone knocked on his door.

Ginny entered his room saying, "Oh, good. You're up. I just wanted to know what you wanted for breakfast." She stopped and stared. "Harry, you're up early and _reading_…Are your okay?"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, Ginny, I'm fine. I'm trying to decide which team to try out for."

Ginny came over and lay down next to Harry on his bed. He shifted so she was able to look at the book with him. Harry flipped through the pages till he found the section on the Chudley Cannons. "See, they could use some new talent. But I don't know if I want to be on a team that always loses. Plus, their robes aren't that great."

Ginny nodded her agreement. "I've yet to figure out why Ron is so obsessed with them. Pathetic, really."

Harry flicked through the book again and stopped at a chapter about the Montrose Magpies. "Now, this team has a good reputation. The most successful…nice robes…" Harry joked. "But I just don't think they're for me either."

"Why not?" asked Ginny.

"Now, really, who wants to call themselves a magpie?"

Ginny giggled. "What about them? I might just try out for them when I leave Hogwarts," she asked, pointing to a picture of the Puddlemere United team flying in close formation. "I mean they have nice robes, no funny mascots, and a good reputation. And isn't Oliver Wood on that team now?"

"Yeah, I think he is," said Harry as he strained his memory to recall. "Actually, I was leaning more towards Puddlemere anyw-- What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Someone laughed."

"Harry, no one laughed."

"Yeah, your probably right. No wait! There it was again! Did you hear it?"

Ginny nodded. "It sounded like it came from the ceiling." They both gazed at the ceiling. A green sprig of mistletoe was hanging above Harry's bed.

"I didn't put that there," Harry said in awe.

"No, it's a bit of Fred and George's work. They came to help us put up the Christmas decorations yesterday, before you got here, though I'm not quite sure why, since no one's going to even be here for Christmas," she explained. "They bewitched it to follow people around the house until they kiss. You should have seen it following Ron and Fred around yesterday."

"And what if they don't?" Harry asked, staring open-mouthed at the mistletoe on his ceiling. He thought back to the last time he had tried to kiss Ginny and how she had run from him.

"It gets very violent," she giggled.

Harry dropped his gaze back down to Ginny, who, to his surprise, was not staring at the ceiling but at him instead. "Well, we don't want that, do we?" he joked.

"Of course not," she played along.

Harry leaned in to kiss her, hardly daring to believe his luck. Here he was with the girl of his dreams, and she was inviting him to kiss her. He felt their lips meet and tasted strawberries. He expected her to pull back right away but she didn't. Instead, she wrapped her hands around Harry's neck and pulled him closer.

Suddenly, as if pulling herself unwillingly out of a trance, she pushed Harry away. "No," she muttered.

"Why not?"

"I'm supposed to be over you," she whispered.

"But are you?" asked Harry, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes

She shook her head. Reaching up, she stroked Harry's cheek. "Not by a long shot."

Harry cradled her head in his hand and kissed her again. Slowly she lay back on Harry's pillows, her mouth never leaving his. Above them, the mistletoe sniggered and shot out of Harry's open door.

Ginny froze and pushed Harry off her. "Ron's coming." She got up and smoothed out her hair and clothes. "I should go finish breakfast," she said, sliding past her brother in the doorway.

"Morning, Harry. What was Ginny doing in your room?"

"She wanted to know what I wanted for breakfast," said Harry. He wasn't lying, not really. After all, that was why she had come into his room in the first place.

"Oh. Why've you go lip gloss on?" Ron asked suddenly. He squinted hard at Harry.

Harry licked his lips. Strawberries. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"Why are your lips all red?" Ron berated. "And why are you blushing?" He stopped suddenly. "You…and Ginny…"

"Listen, Ron, I'm sorry, but the mistletoe and the Quidditch and the…I mean…with the," he spluttered. "Why aren't you yelling?" Harry had expected his friend to be mad. Instead, he stood there smirking.

"I knew you liked my sister! I knew it! Wait till I tell Hermione," he laughed. "She owes me!"

"What do you mean?"

"I bet her that you and Ginny would be together before Christmas. She didn't even think you liked her!"

"So you're not mad?" Harry asked, starting to calm down.

"Well, it was a bit strange to find my best friend and my sister in bed together—"

"In bed!" Harry shouted. "But, Ron, we didn't do anything!"

"—_but_ I think I'll get over it, as long as it doesn't happen again," Ron finished as he and Harry headed down the stairs to breakfast. "Mind you, Bill might have a few things to say about it, but I'm sure you'll be able to convince him."

"Ron, please don't be mad at Harry," Ginny said as they entered the kitchen.

"Relax, Gin. I'm not mad at anyone."

"Oh, well then," she said, slightly flustered. She flashed a grin in Harry's direction.

"So what's for breakfast?" Ron asked.

"Eggs," Ginny said as she turned back to the stove. "Where's Bill? Is he going to be eating with us?"

"You know, I don't think he will," Ron answered, summoning plates from the cabinet. "I think he went to Grimmauld Place. He leaves tomorrow, so we need to pack up tonight. Harry, you _will_ get to spend Christmas at Hogwarts this year after all."

* * *

The arrival of the New Year usually caused Gryffindor house to throw a huge party. Someone usually snuck down to the kitchens and nicked food while other students used older siblings to provide the wine, champagne, and the increasingly popular Firewhisky. Harry remembered all too well last year when he'd indulged a bit too much in the drinking. The morning after had been a nightmare as he spent most of it throwing up and complaining of a splitting headache. Then there was the fact that drinking was his uncle's new favorite hobby. All in all, he decided, he would not touch a drop of alcohol during the celebration.

The night of the party, Harry sat in Gryffindor Common Room glancing at his watch and staring into the fire. At a quarter to midnight, Harry gazed around the Common Room and watched couples strolling hand in hand. He sighed.

"Cheer up, Harry," said Ron rather tipsily. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ginny said she'd be here," Harry said.

"I told you, she needed to work on something in the library. She was going to try and make it before midnight but she wasn't sure." Hermione sipped her glass of wine. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, well, you can't expect me to follow the rules all the time, can you," she declared.

At five to midnight, Hermione and Ron left to find a more private spot to celebrate the New Year and Harry was left alone by the fire. He sat staring for a while. Someone called out that only thirty seconds were left. His heart flip-flopped and then plunged into his stomach. Another New Years alone. Suddenly a hand went over his eyes. He stiffened, but relaxed as he heard a giggle. "Ginny," he sighed.

"I saw you sitting over here all by yourself and I thought I'd come keep you company," she said, handing him a glass of champagne. "No one should be alone on New Years!"

"I said I wouldn't drink this year," he said, refusing the glass.

"It's _New Years_! Just one glass?"

Harry grinned and took the champagne from her as the countdown started.

"You know it's a Weasley tradition to kiss your special someone at the stroke of midnight. You're part of the Weasley family now, so you'd better find someone." (10…)

"I think I did." (9…)

"Oh, really. Who?" Ginny said scooting closer. (8…)

"You'll see." Harry scanned the room and pretended to stare avidly at Lavender Brown, who was already surrounded by a gaggle of Gryffindor boys. (7…)

Ginny frowned. (6…)

Laughing, Harry said, "Relax! Like I'd want to spend the holiday with anyone else!" (5…)

A grin returned to Ginny's face. "You had me worried there for a second." (4…)

"3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!" shouted the Common Room. No one paid any attention to the couple on the couch by the fire.

Harry pulled back after a few moments. "You taste good. Like…"

Ginny laughed. "Chocolate?"


	9. The Price of Victory

Hey I got my first review! thanks very much!

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Chapter 9 The Price of Victory

January passed and neither hide nor hair had been seen of Voldemort. Harry, however, had not been idle. Quidditch practices were held four nights a week. Despite how hard he'd been working his team, they were still behind in the standings. Gryffindor needed to win the upcoming game against Slytherin to stay in the running for the Quidditch Cup.

The morning of the match dawned cold and clear. A thin layer of snow blanketed the lawns. Harry rose late and headed down to breakfast alone. As he crossed the Common Room, Mark jumped up from a chair near the fire.

"Hiya, Harry! Are you going to breakfast?"

"Yeah. You wanna come?"

"Okay. So are you nervous about today?"

"Sure am. I haven't been this nervous about playing Quidditch since my first year."

"Your first year? But I didn't think first years ever go to play on House teams."

"They usually don't. But I just got lucky. Have you been flying yet?"

"Yeah I have! I love it! Do you think I could ever play Quidditch for Gryffindor?" Mark asked excitedly.

"You probably could. Do you know what position you want to play?" Harry asked as they entered the almost empty Great Hall.

"Well, I've been watching you and I really would like to be Seeker, too."

"You'd be pretty good," said Harry, loading his plate with food.

"Do you really think so?"

"Sure. You're light and speedy; you've got quick reflexes. And you don't have glasses. They really get in the way in the rain. So aside from Quidditch, what else do you like at Hogwarts?"

"Everything! I mean, the magic, and all the people and the teachers! Wow!"

"What's you're favorite class?" inquired Harry, glad to have something to distract him from the game.

"Well, I know which one's not my favorite. I hate Potions. That Snape's always picking on Gryffindors. But I think I like Defense Against the Dark Arts the best. Lupin's really nice."

Harry nodded. "I don't like Snape much either. But that's okay 'cause he doesn't like me," he said through a mouthful of food.

"Harry!"

Harry turned to look at the entrance. Ron was striding towards them. "What are you still doing down here? You need to get to the field."  
"What time is it?"

"Almost ten."

"What time does the match start?" Harry asked standing up.

"Ten."

"No! Sorry, Mark," Harry shouted. "Is everyone down on the field already?"

"Yes. We were just trying to find you."

Harry burst into the locker room, out of breath.

"Hey, Harry! Where've you been?" asked Dean.

"Sorry. But listen guys—"

"Hey!" cried Ginny.

"And girls. We really need to win this. We'll be out for sure if we don't. So no pressure whatsoever."

"Ahhh, Harry, we don't have anything to worry about," said Seamus.

"Yeah," agreed Dennis. "We're the better team. We've got this."

"You all know I agree wholeheartedly," said Harry, fighting a grin. "But we can't afford to get cocky. Look, let's just get out there and do our best. Just remember it's my last year and this would look really good when I go to try out. Remember that!" he joked. "Let's go!"

Harry led the team out onto the field. The snow crunched beneath their feet and soaked the hems of their robes. The stands roared and the familiar chant "Go, Go Gryffindor!" was heard above the boos of the Slytherins. Harry stopped at the center of the pitch.

Madam Hooch walked out to them. "Captains shake hands," she ordered.

Harry and Malfoy stepped forward, trying to glare at each other without laughing. Malfoy offered a hand and Harry pretended to take it grudgingly.

"Mount your brooms," Madam Hooch called. She opened the chest with the balls and let them loose. Then she put her silver whistle to her lips and gave one shrill blast.

Harry kicked off hard from the ground and was soon high above the game. He scanned the pitch for a glint of gold. Then suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. Hardly daring to believe that the Snitch had shown up this early in the game, Harry flattened himself on his broomstick, but he sat up again. It was only Dennis's wristwatch glinting in the sunlight. Harry cursed under his breath.

Soaring a bit higher to dodge a Bludger, Harry surveyed the game. Cheers erupted from the Slytherin stands as Ron dove to make a save and missed. Harry groaned.

Gryffindor, however, was not going down without a fight. A few minutes later, Hermione made a spectacular shot past the Slytherin Keeper. Soon after that, Dennis also streaked towards the Slytherin hoops. He was not so lucky. Crabbe slammed a Bludger toward Dennis who was forced to drop the Quaffle to avoid colliding with it.

Unfortunately, one of the Slytherin Chasers caught it and took off toward the Gryffindors end of the pitch. Ginny soared after him, but not fast enough. He threw the Quaffle hard towards Ron, who was not about to be beaten twice in five minutes. He dove and this time the Quaffle landed squarely in his hands. The roar from the crowd was tumultuous.

But, as always, Slytherin made sure their feelings were noticed. Goyle aimed his broom right at Ron and zoomed toward him. The two collided and Ron was sent careening out of control. With one last spin, he flipped over the edge of his broom and landed hard on the ground.

Madam Hooch let out a shrill blast from her whistle. "Penalty awarded to Gryffindor!"

"Time out!" Harry called as he dove to his friend's aid along with the rest of the team. The Gryffindors booed loudly.

"Ron! Are you okay?" Harry shouted as he jumped off his broom.

Ron sat up dazed. "Why that…He knocked me off my broom!" Harry offered him a hand and stood Ron on his feet.

"Are you okay? Can you still play?" Harry asked, handing Ron his broom.

"Yeah, I think so. I just landed wrong on my wrist is all. I'll be fine."

"Let me have a look," said Ginny. Ron gave her his hand. "It's only a sprain, but he probably shouldn't play."

"But I've got to!"

"Ron, it's up to you. Do you think you can finish the game?" Harry asked.

"I'm fine," Ron insisted. "You played with a broken arm before, Harry, remember."

"I haven't got a back up, Ginny," Harry said. "He's go to play or we'll forfeit the match."  
Ginny nodded. "Just finish the game quick."

Harry and the others took off again. Harry zoomed across the pitch, scanning for the Snitch. And then, he saw it. There it was, glittering high above the crowds in the stands. He took off for it, Malfoy hot on his tail.

Harry closed in on the Snitch. As he stretched out his hand to grab it, Malfoy called, "Look out, Harry!" but he wasn't quick enough.

As Harry's fingers closed over the Snitch's beating wings, something hit him hard in the small of his back. He cartwheeled over the end of his Firebolt and landed in the uppermost part of the stands.

The last thing Harry saw before he passed out was Malfoy screaming at Goyle and Ron fighting his way up to Harry. He held on tight to the golden ball in his hand and let darkness envelope him.

Harry woke in the hospital wing sometime later. Every part of him hurt. He groaned and opened his eyes. The entire Gryffindor team surrounded him. "What happened? Did we win?" he asked quickly.

Ron grinned. "Yeah, we beat 'em, thanks to you."

"But what hit me?" Harry asked as he tried to push himself into a sitting position. "Why can't I move my legs?"

Ginny moved forward and sat on the edge of his bed. "Goyle hit a Bludger at you. Madam Pomfrey said you broke your back."

Too right he did," said the nurse as she bustled into the room. "But it'll heal in time and with a little help from me you'll be back on your feet in no time."

"Well, what's it going to take to fix me up this time?" asked Harry lightheartedly, desperately trying to fight the terror that had welled up inside him at the news that he wouldn't be able to move.

"I've got a potion mixed for you, and then it's bed rest for about a day or so. After that, you'll just have to take it easy for a while," said Madam Pomfrey as she filled a syringe with a golden liquid.

"What's that for?" Harry asked haltingly.

"How else am I supposed to get this potion in you. You couldn't very well drink this." Harry shrank away from her. "Oh, you can't tell me you're afraid of needles," she chuckled.

"No, I'm not afraid of them. They just make me a little bit nervous is all," Harry said.

"Right then. Well, if you plan on lying in that bed for the rest of your life, by all means, don't let me stop you. Just let me know when you're ready to walk again." She set the needle on Harry's bedside table. The she glanced at the clock on the far wall. "Out! Harry's going to need his rest tonight," she said, shooing his friends out the door.

After they left, Madam Pomfrey rounded on Harry again. "Now, Mr. Potter, you need this potion, and there's only one way I can give it to you. It won't hurt. You don't even have to look."

"Alright," Harry said grudgingly.

He watched as the nurse swabbed a bit of skin on his left wrist. Thankfully she was too preoccupied with clicking her tongue at the dangers of letting children play such violent sports to notice the thin, pink line there. Harry shuddered at the memory of the night at the Weasley's when he'd given himself that scar. "After all the injuries you've had, you, the famous Harry Potter, are afraid of needles," she said.

"I'm not proud of it, you know."

"Alright, then. I'll do it on three." Harry turned away and gritted his teeth. "One…Two…" Harry grimaced but didn't feel anything.

"Are you gonna do it?" he asked.

"I'm done."

"What? But I didn't feel anything." He lifted his wrist in front of his face. Sure enough, a tiny dribble of blood trickled down his arm.

"I know," said Madam Pomfrey curtly. "Now you'll probably want to get some sleep before that kicks in. You're in for an unpleasant night."

Shortly after three in the morning, Harry woke with a pain like a white-hot knife in his back. He gave a small cry, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. He sat up and rubbed the spot on his back until the pain died down. He shook out his legs, glad to find that he could move again.

He sighed and laid his head back down on his pillow, ready to finish the night, but his wish was not granted. A tingling sensation had started in his feet and was moving up his legs. Quickly, it spread to every part of his body. He felt as if all of him had fallen asleep. He rolled onto his side and hugged his knees to his chest as he waited for the pain to subside.

Just then, a light flooded into the room. "I thought I heard you," said Madam Pomfrey. "Unfortunately that feelings not going to go away tonight, and I can't give you anything for it."

"When does it stop?" Harry asked.

"It'll be gone by lunch tomorrow, I suppose." She set her lamp down. "For now, all I can do is give you this. It's just a sleeping potion, but at least you won't be awake through the worst of it. How's your back feeling?" she asked as she poured Harry a glass of the potion.

"It's better," Harry said shortly. He was in a hurry to get the potion so he didn't have to feel the needles all over his body anymore.

"Of course it is." She handed him the draught. "Drink up."

Harry drained the glass and handed it back to Madam Pomfrey. As she doused the light and left the room, Harry dropped into a deep sleep.

Madam Pomfrey woke Harry late the next day and informed him that he had visitors. He sat up, pleased to feel back to normal, and saw Ron, Hermione, and Ginny filing through the door. "You have fifteen minutes," said the nurse as she left the infirmary and closed the door behind her.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Ginny asked, settling herself on the foot of Harry's bed.

"Better than I did last night. And I can move again," he said. He wiggled his legs to show them.

"Good!" Hermione said. "Then you can do all your homework." She dug into her bag and pulled out a stack of books and papers.

"All this is from one day?"

"You picked a bad time to get hurt," said Ron, helping himself to a few of Harry's get-well sweets.

"How's your wrist?" asked Harry as he flipped through his homework.

Ron held up his hand to reveal a brace. "She's able to fix every weird thing that goes on in this castle but she can't heal a sprain. Go figure."

Hermione checked her watch. "Ron, we should really go get started on that Herbology essay, don't you think." she said.

Ron's jaw dropped. "Do you ever stop?" he asked as he followed her out of the hospital wing.

Harry shook his head. "Those two…"

"They're glad to see that you're okay. You gave us all quite a scare yesterday," Ginny said. She crawled toward Harry and curled up with her head on his chest. He stroked her hair. "Malfoy kicked Goyle off the team, you know."

"Good. Stupid git tried to kill me and Ron."

"Do you think you'll be well enough to play against Ravenclaw next week?"

"I haven't asked yet. I hope so. I haven't got a reserve."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Ginny got off the bed, muttering about how she needed to get to dinner. Harry took her hand up in his and wished her goodnight as Madam Pomfrey and Professor Lupin came into the infirmary. Harry dropped her hand.

"Oh, Miss Weasley, I thought you'd left," said the nurse.

"I was just going," she said as she sidled out the door.

Lupin caught Harry's eye and smirked. Then he turned to Madam Pomfrey. "Thanks, I'll just talk to Harry while a finish this," he said, holding up a cup of steaming tea. She nodded and left again.

The professor pulled up a chair and sat near Harry. "So did I see you and Ginny holding hands?" Lupin asked, peering at Harry over the top of his cup.

Harry blushed.

"You two look just like your mother and father. It's almost scary actually."

"Why's that?" Harry asked. He thought, if anything, it would remind Lupin of his good old days.

"I'm worried that with everything going on with Voldemort and the fact that you're so much like your father that you may meet the same fate as them. I hope against hope that that won't be your destiny."

Harry sat in silence a moment or two. Lupin, sensing his uneasiness, changed the subject. "So that was a nasty fall you took the other day. What did you break this time?"

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Only my back," he joked. Lupin blanched and Harry laughed at him. "Don't worry. I'm all better now," he chuckled.

"And when can you play again?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "Madam Pomfrey hasn't told me yet. I hope I'm better by the weekend. We've got a match against Ravenclaw."

Lupin drained the last of his tea and stood. "Well, Harry, get better. Merlin knows that Gryffindor needs to win this year of all years."

"Good-bye, Professor," said Harry. Madame Pomfrey bustled back in and took the cup from Lupin. After he had left, Harry asked the question that seemed to be on everyone's minds.

"Madam Pomfrey," Harry started, twiddling his sheets in his fingers, "when will I be allowed back for Quidditch?"

She looked at him pityingly. "I have no problem with you coaching, as long as I don't catch you near your broomstick. But I'm afraid you won't be back in time for your next game."

"What!" Harry shouted, nearly leaving the bed. "But I've got to play," he whined.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but that's that. You'll just have to sit the next one out. If it were up to me, I wouldn't even have you play your last game. However, I know you would never allow that."

"But—"

"Unless you want to sit out the last game, you will not play in this next match," she said calmly. Turning to leave, she continued, "You can pout all you want but I will not change my mind."

Harry stared after her in disbelief. He hadn't missed a game since his fifth year and he hadn't planned on it happening again, so there was no one to take his place. He glared bitterly at the homework in his lap.


	10. Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor

hey guys. no i didnt forget about u all. i was in arizona working on an indian reservation for 10 days. no joke. it was fun. but now im back. so heres more. thanks to everyone whos reading this and thanks to the 2 whove reviewed so far.

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**Chapter 10 Ravenclaw Versus Gryffindor**

"Hiya, Harry."

Harry glanced up from his Astrology homework. "Oh, hey, Mark."

"I just came to give you something." He opened his hand and showed Harry a golden Snitch.

"Where'd you get that?" asked Harry.

"At the game. You let go of it and I caught it so I could give it back. No one would take it though. They were all too worried about you."

"Thanks," said Harry, taking the ball from Mark. "Wait, you said you _caught_ this."

Mark nodded.

"Mark, that's great! Listen, how would you like to play Quidditch for me this weekend. I can't play and I don't have a reserve. After all, you did say you wanted to be a Seeker right?" said Harry excitedly.

The boy beamed back. "Seriously? I'd love to!"

"Great…I think you'll fit into my old robes…yeah. Well, then you have practice tomorrow at six. I'll meet you at the Quidditch pitch."

"Wow! Thanks, Harry. But, I don't have a broom."

"Oh, you're right. Well, have you ever flown on a Firebolt?" Harry asked.

"No. Who do you know that's got one of those?"

"I do."

"But isn't that, like, the best broom out there? How did you manage to get one? I know your uncle wouldn't buy it for you."

"No he wouldn't. My godfather did."

"Oh. Who's your godfather?"

"Do you remember a few years back, Muggles were being warned about a man who had escaped for a prison. He was supposed to be armed and dangerous. They got a few things wrong. Yes, he escaped from prison, Azkaban to be precise, but he should never have been there in the first place. He wasn't armed, and he was only dangerous to one person."

"Who was he dangerous to?"

"Peter Pettigrew. He was one of my parents' best friends. He gave them up to Voldemort."

"Azkaban?" Mark asked. "Where's that?"

"I don't know. No one does. Someplace up north I guess. It's a wizarding prison."

"What was his name?"

"Sirius Black."

"I remember that! How did he ever get to be your godfather?"

"He was like a brother to my dad."

"Why do you keep saying 'was'?"

"He's not alive anymore. He died in my fifth year."

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," said Mark. "You two must have been really close if he gave you a Firebolt. I don't mean to be nosy and if you don't wanna talk about it anymore, I'll understand, but how did he die?"

"Voldemort showed me a vision where Sirius was in trouble. I went to save him and found out that it was all just to get me to the Ministry so Voldemort could try and kill me again. Then Sirius came to rescue me. He ended up in a duel with his cousin, a Death Eater named Bellatrix Lestrange. He fell…"

Mark sat in silence.

"I guess it's kind of my fault then," said Harry in a depressed voice.

"No, it's Voldemort's. Your godfather came to help you because he loved you. That's no ones fault," Mark said plainly, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to spot.

Harry sat, stunned to hear such words of wisdom coming from a twelve year old.

"Harry, I've got to go. I'll see you at six tomorrow," said Mark as he turned to leave.

"Bye," Harry called after him. "Hey, Mark, thanks."

"Ginny. I'm glad you're here," Harry said around five the next day.

"Oh, did you hear that, Hermione?" said Ron. "Apparently we're not wanted here."

"Be quiet. Listen, I can't play Saturday. Madam Pomfrey won't let me," Harry said. "Ginny, you know how to play Seeker, right. I mean, you took my place fifth year, didn't you?"

"Yeah. But I can't play for you. I have to play Chaser."

"I know, but I found someone who will play for me. Only problem is he's never been in a game before."

"Who?"

"Mark."

"But he's a first year!" exclaimed Ron.

"He's supposed to be a second year. And I was a first year when I played my first time," Harry shot at him.

"But why do you need me?" asked Ginny.

"I can't train him. I'm not allowed on a broom yet. I need you to fly with him."

"All right," Ginny agreed. "When?"

"Six."

"How do you plan on getting down to the pitch? Can you walk yet?"

"I don't know. Let me try." He stood up and wobbled a bit. A dull pain started in his back. He ignored it. Harry walked around to his friends.

"Harry! That's great!" exclaimed Hermione.

"You'd better get out of your pajamas if we've got to be down on the pitch at six," Ginny said.

"Mr. Potter! What do you think you're doing?" shouted Madam Pomfrey as she entered the room. "And what's all this about being down on the pitch?"

"You said I could train my replacement."

"Yes, but I didn't mean today. I meant later this week."

"But that's not enough time. Besides, I'm walking fine," Harry argued. "And it's not like I'm going to fly."

"I'll send Madam Hooch down with you," she said brusquely as she left the room. "And don't bother coming back, I've done all can do," she shouted.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Is my broom still in the shed by the field?"

Hermione nodded.

"Do you guys want to come and watch?" Harry asked, sitting on the edge of his bed to rest his back, which was starting to throb now.

"Sure!" said Ron.

At the same time, Hermione shook her head and said, "No thanks, Harry. We've got to study for a test tomorrow."

"What!" bellowed Ron. "But, Hermione..."

Hermione dragged him from his seat. "Have fun you two." She turned back to Ron. "It's your last year, Ron. Your grades need to be up, and as of now they are not."

At five after six, Harry and Ginny arrived down on the Quidditch pitch. Madam Hooch was already there, talking with Mark. Harry walked over to them.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, I'm glad to see you up and about again."

Harry gave her a polite grin then turned to Mark. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he said excitedly.

"This is Ginny," Harry pointed to her. "She'll be helping you since I can't fly yet."

Mark waved shyly, blushing.

"Oh, he's cute! Harry, how come you're not like that anymore?" Ginny joked.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Mark, here's what you'll be flying on Saturday." He handed his broom to the boy, who's eyes got round as Galleons. "Why don't you fly it a little bit so you can get used to it. It's very different from the school brooms."

Mark mounted and kicked off hard from the ground. He soared around the pitch a few times, diving here and there, a look of pure bliss plastered on his face.

"He's quite good," Ginny said. "I won't have to work too hard tonight." Harry nodded. "You know who he reminds me of?"

"Who?"

"You. 'Cept he's got brown hair. I mean he even has your eyes. You two aren't related are you?"

"Not that I know of," Harry said, sitting down and longingly watching Mark zoom in and out of the goal posts.

"You miss it don't you?"

Harry nodded. "What's sad is it's only been a few days."

"You'll be back soon."

"Alright, Mark, come back down," said Harry, standing up and reaching into the bag he'd brought with him. He pulled out bag of golf balls. "I don't want to use a real Snitch quite yet, so we're going to use these. This is how I started."

He handed the bag to Ginny. "Just toss them so he can practice catching them."

Ginny and Mark took off and Harry sat back down next to Madam Hooch whose head was tilted back and was snoring softly. He rubbed his hands together to keep them warm and suppressed the urge to shiver. Pulling his cloak closer around him, he watched the two flying, and noticed the clouds rolling across the sky. He breathed deep and smelled the familiar scent of rain.

Ginny tossed a golf ball gently to Mark and he caught it easily. After a few more easy catches, she started throwing them to different parts of the pitch. Mark didn't do so well on these. The first five or so he missed and he hung his head dejectedly.

"Mark, it's okay. It's only your first night," Harry shouted to him, his breath rising around him. "Just try a few more before we go in tonight."

The boy took a deep breath and set himself firmly on his broom. Ginny lobbed one to the opposite side of the pitch. He shot off after it. It was just about to hit the ground when he caught it. Mark pulled up sharply out of his dive, his toes brushing the frosty grass.

"Good job!" Harry called gleefully.

Ginny tossed a few more to him and not one slipped past. As the sun set behind the Forbidden Forest, Harry called them both down. "That was really good, Mark. Do you think you can come down here the same time every day this week? I need you to practice with the team a bit."

Mark nodded.

"Right then, I'll have Madam Hooch take you back up to the castle while Ginny and I stay here and pick up a few things."

Harry went over and woke up the teacher. "We're finished. I'm just going to clean up a few things here before I head back up. Can you walk Mark back?"

"Sure," she yawned. "Don't be too long, Potter. You of all people shouldn't be out here alone."

"I wont be alone. Ginny will be here."

"Right. Just be quick."

Harry watched them leave, and then pulled out his wand. "Lumos," he said.

He walked out onto the pitch and started picking up golf balls. Ginny followed him grabbing the ones he missed. Once the bag was full, he walked back over to the stands and picked up his Firebolt. Ginny came up and clasped his hand as they walked back to the castle.

"He was very good," she said after a few moments.

Harry nodded.

"Course, he's not you, but I think he'll be okay."

"Yeah," Harry muttered.

Ginny stared at him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm nervous."

"I thought so. Mark's going to do fine this weekend," she said.

"Not about that," whispered Harry. "I have total faith in Mark. I'm worried about me."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought I was better, but this hurts more than I expected." He stopped walking. "What if I can't play like I used to when I come back?"

"You'll be fine. Madam Pomfrey knows what she's doing." She pulled Harry up the sloping lawns as rain began to fall around them. "Besides, you always bounce back."

Harry and Ginny broke into a trot, covering their heads. They walked into the hall a few minutes later, soaked to the bone and freezing. Ginny wrung out her long hair onto the floor. "For Filch," she whispered. They squelched across the floor towards the Gryffindor tower, slipping and sliding all the way.

As they entered the nearly empty common room, Harry saw Ron and Hermione on the couch. He put a finger to his lips and snuck up behind them. "Having fun studying?" He laughed as they broke apart.

"I did not want to see that," Ginny said disgustedly.

"Umm…Hi, Harry," Hermione said, a crimson flush creeping up her cheeks. "I didn't think you two would be back yet."

"Obviously," Harry said, sitting beside them.

"So," Ron said, casually casting around for a subject. His ears remained the same deep shade of red as his hair no matter how hard he tried to conceal it. "Umm…how was Mark?"

"He's actually quite good," Ginny said with a sly smirk in Harry's direction.

"But, you'll get to see that for yourself when he trains with us this week," Harry said, setting his shoes out to dry by the fire.

"Well, then, I think I'm going to head up to bed." Hermione stood and headed towards the staircase. Harry noticed Ron staring after her.

"Wipe the drool of your chin, big brother," Ginny said, tossing a pillow at him. It smacked him squarely in the face.

A loud peal of thunder sounded and Harry woke with a start. He'd been having a strange dream. He couldn't quite recall it all, but he did remember Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy being involved in some way. Judging by the absence of nausea, shakes, and the painful prickling of his scar, this dream had been just that, a dream. Harry glanced at his watch. It was three thirty on the morning of the match with Ravenclaw.

Rolling over onto his side, Harry tried to fall back to sleep, but the rain against the window and the random rolls of thunder did not permit it. Instead, he resigned himself to staring out the window at the dark sky. His heart dropped into his stomach. This was not how he wanted his Seeker's first and most important match to start.

After a half and hour or so of staring blankly, Harry pulled the comforter off his bed and moved to the common room in hopes that the storm might be a bit quieter down there. He settled himself into a chair near the last dying embers of the fire and closed his eyes, pleased the din outside was somewhat muted. He had almost dropped back off when he heard someone coming down the stairs. Suddenly wide-awake, Harry whipped around in his seat and stared at the shadowy silhouette of a girl.

"Who's down here?" she asked sleepily.

"Me," Harry answered back.

"Harry?"

"Ginny? What are you doing down here?"

"I couldn't sleep. I don't like storms," she answered, moving closer to Harry as forked lightning lit up the room. "What are _you_ doing down here?"

"I couldn't sleep either. Why don't you like storms?" Harry asked, lifting up his blanket and patting his lap. She sat down and Harry wrapped his arms and the cover around her.

"When I was little, Bill built me a tree house in the tallest tree in out backyard for when all the boys got to be too much. I was the only one who knew how to find it, because he made it kind of like Grimmauld Place. I was up in it one night during a storm and Mum couldn't find me. Finally I got smart and decided it was time to head home before I got killed. I had barely set foot on the ground when the whole tree just exploded. It threw me, like, ten feet. Broke my wrist in three different places when I landed. The next morning, the tree was all gnarled and bent and burnt. When your five it kind of scares you to see something like that." Yawning a bit, she burrowed her head into Harry's shoulder and hugged her stomach.

"I kind of like storms," Harry said, gazing at the drops of rain sliding down the glass. "It makes my life seem a bit calmer."

Ginny nodded but jumped when another clap of thunder boomed. Harry squeezed her tighter against his chest and kissed her forehead. He felt her relax a bit and soon she had fallen asleep. Lifting her gently and laying her back down on a couch, Harry covered her with his blanket. Then, he curled up in a squashy chair across from her and was soon sound asleep.

Harry woke with a shiver around eight and was surprised to find that no one was in the common room yet. Of course, it shouldn't have been that much of a surprise considering O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s weren't that far off and most of the students had been up late studying. He supposed they were sleeping in and enjoying the weekend as much as they could. As he stretched, he peered out the window, hoping the storm had blown passed. No such luck. Night still had a hold on the sky outside though dawn should have passed hours ago.

Standing underneath a large umbrella, Harry waited for Madam Hooch's whistle to sound. Not that he could have heard it if she had blown it. The howling wind and low rumble of thunder would have prevented any vestiges of sound from reaching Harry's ears. He wrung his hands and gnawed at his lip as he watched the players soar above the pitch.

Thirty seconds into the game, Ravenclaw scored the first goal. Harry was taken back to last year. The final had been against them and Ravenclaw had won, even though Harry had caught the Snitch. He shook his head and prayed this would be a repeat.

For a few moments, Harry watched the Chasers, zooming back and forth and passing the Quaffle almost faster than he could keep up with. When he saw that they were doing as well as could be expected in this weather, he scanned for Mark. He found him high above the action of the game, just like Harry had taught him. Harry watched his head moving from side to side as he searched for the Snitch.

Forked lightening shot down from the sky and thunder sounded louder than before. Harry glanced at Ginny and was pleased to see that she was too focused on the game to care much about the storm. He only hoped Mark would catch the Snitch soon, before playing got too dangerous.

Suddenly, the Ravenclaws began to cheer as their Seeker went into a spectacular dive. Mark shot after him but Harry couldn't see how he would ever possibly catch up. Surprisingly, the distance between the two was closing, and the Ravenclaw Seeker glanced nervously over his shoulder. This was his downfall. While taking his attention off the Snitch, he slowed down the slightest bit. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Mark blew past him in a whirl of scarlet robes and plucked the golden ball right out of the air.

With a shout, Harry leapt into the air and ran out onto the field, splashing through the mud. Mark landed and Harry enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug as the rest of the team landed around them, thumping Mark on the back. To cheers of "Evans! Evans!" Harry lifted the boy onto his shoulders while Gryffindors poured onto the field.

Once more, lightening lit the sky, and the teachers shouted something about getting everyone inside. It wasn't until the deafening crashes of thunder came that anyone took heed to their advice. As one, the students ran for cover. Rain came down now as if someone was dumping continuous pales of water and Ginny was clinging to Harry's arm quite painfully. Even resembling a drowned rat could not dampen Harry's spirits though, and he continued to grin from ear to ear.

Finally back in the Common Room, Harry warmed himself by the fire while the whole of Gryffindor Tower celebrated. He was just about to join in on the merrymaking when Hermione pulled him aside.

"You never said Mark's last name was Evans." She was whispering as if afraid that someone would overhear them. Not that anyone could have caught what they were saying with the commotion about them.

"So?" Harry asked, eager to join Ron over by the food.

"Well, doesn't that name ring a bell?"

Harry didn't answer, hoping she would cut to the chase. She didn't so he shook his head slowly.

"Honestly!" she muttered in exasperation as if any sane person would have been able to see it. "Wasn't your mom's last name Evans before she married your dad?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry answered cautiously. Suddenly a light clicked on. "But it's a popular name. Besides, my mum didn't have any other kids besides me, and Aunt Petunia…well, I mean who would want to?"

"Maybe. But it's possible he's some long lost relation. Wouldn't that be nice!" she finished cheerfully as she traipsed off toward Ginny.

Harry stared blankly after her. "What a nutter!" he mumbled, heading to get some food.

Ron and Harry sat over in a corner, removed from the action of the common room, reliving the short match over and over again.

"He didn't even wait for us to score! It was like watching you play!" Ron exclaimed with a mouth full of meat pie.

Grinning, Harry said, "So it's okay for him to be a first year now?"

Ron glared at him.

"Hiya, Harry. I've been looking for you."

Harry turned around and beamed at Mark, who was also grinning from ear to ear. "Not bad for your first game!" he said, offering Mark a seat near them.

"Thanks."

"So, you came awful close to beating a Hogwarts record, and my record at that, after practicing for a week. I'd say you've got potential. You'll be talking my place next year, apparently."

"I hope so! That was fun."

"Hey, Mark, come sit over here with us!" someone shouted from with a gaggle of excited first years. Mark stood to leave but Harry stopped him.

"Before you go, can I ask you a few questions?" Harry asked, suddenly serious. Mark sat back down, gazing into Harry's face questioningly. Even Ron stopped eating long enough to listen in on the conversation; a forkful of meat pie poised a few inches from his mouth. He stared back and forth between Harry and Mark, a look of wonder on his face.

"Hermione brought something to my attention a little while ago, and it's been bugging me," Harry started in. Mark urged Harry on with a nod of his head. "I don't know if…well…I mean…" Harry stopped and took a breath. "How come you never talk about your dad?"

"Well, I never knew him. My mom left him before they got married. She says he was a complete nutter. Course, now we know he was telling the truth, but that doesn't matter much because he died before I was even born."

"What do you mean 'he was telling the truth?" asked Harry leaning forward in his seat.

"He said he was a wizard!" Mark exclaimed proudly.

"Wait. So start at the beginning. How did your mom meet him?"

"When my mom was seventeen she ran away from home. She didn't even go back when she found out she had two sisters. She says that her family pressured her too much," Mark said as if it were as casual as the talking about the weather. "She met my dad and they were going to get married but when he told her about what he was, she left him. A few days later she found out about me." Mark was silent for a moment.

"And…" pressed Harry impatiently.

The boy stared back quizzically. "Well," he continued, "my mum went to tell him and found out he'd been murdered. No one could quite figure out how, 'cause there weren't any marks on the body or anything. He just sort of died."

Harry glanced at Ron, whose eyebrows looked as if they had crawled into his hair they were raised so much. Harry turned back to Mark. "You said your mum had two sisters. What were their names?"

"Wait, Harry, you don't think…I mean he and you…It's not possible is it?" Ron stammered, pointing confusedly at Harry and Mark.

"And why couldn't it be true? Look at us! We look almost identical. How's that coincidence?"

"Maybe. Just don't get your hopes up."

"What are you two talking about!" laughed Mark. "Why should you care what my aunt's names are?"

"Because, Mark, my mum's last name was Evans, before she married my dad."

"Well, you're out of luck. I don't know my aunt's names. I've never met them and my mum doesn't talk about anything from her 'old life.'"

"Oh come on! You must have asked about them sometime," Harry pleaded.

Mark shook his head dolefully.

"Maybe if you hear them you'll remember. My mum's name was Lily and her sister's is Petunia!" Harry said desperately, near tears. He wanted so bad to not be alone in the world.

Again, Mark shook his head.

"Harry, leave him alone," Ron put in, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Gloomily, Mark stood to leave. Suddenly he turned around. "Flowers! My aunt's names reminded me of flowers!"

Harry's head snapped up and a feeling of excitement welled within his chest. "Lily and Petunia…They're flowers."

"Lily…Lily…" mutter Mark, closing his eyes and wrinkling his brow. "Lil—That's it!" he shouted. The entire common room stared at them.

Ron stood and blocked Harry and Mark from view. "Nothing to see hear, folks." One by one the students turned around again muttering to one another.

"Come on." Harry stood quickly and practically ran toward the portrait hole leaving Ron open mouthed in the common room.

"Wait up! Where are we going?" shouted Mark as he caught up.

"Dumbledore," said Harry, breaking into a run. "If anyone knows what's going on here it's him."

They skidded to a stop in front of the entrance to the headmaster's office. "Fizzing Whizzbee," Harry panted, hoping the password hadn't changed since the last time he'd been here.

"Whoa," whispered Mark as the staircase appeared.

"And what are two Gryffindors doing out of the Common Room after that most… spectacular…Quidditch game?" sneered an ugly voice.

Harry whirled around and was face to face with his least favorite teacher. "We're here to talk to Dumbledore, _Professor_." Harry shot back. "There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Five points from Gryffindor, Potter, for your cheek. Your lucky I don't make if more for leading a first year out after dark." With a swish of his cloak, Snape rounded a corner and was gone.

"Bastard!" Harry breathed as he shot off up the stairs, Mark close behind him. "Professor!" he shouted as he banged on the door with his fists.

The door opened to reveal Dumbledore. "Mr. Potter," he said, standing back to let them through. "Have you got something against my door that you insist on breaking it down?"

"Sorry," apologized Harry. "It's just, I was wondering, that is to say, we…well, we wanted to know, is there any possibility that we might be related?" Harry stammered, desperately trying to make the words come out in a coherent fashion.

Dumbledore sat silently behind his desk for a moment, gazing at the two boys behind his half moon spectacles. "Well, the resemblance between the both of you is uncanny, there's no doubt about that. But…well what makes you think you're related?"

Harry glanced at Mark before saying, "Well, like you said, we look a lot alike. He has my mum's eyes! But then there's the fact that he said he thought that his aunt's names sounded like flowers. My mum's name was Lily, that's a flower, and my aunt's name is Petunia, and so's that."

"Ah, so you believe yourselves to be cousins." Harry nodded. For a moment, Dumbledore turned his gaze to Mark, then again to Harry. He sighed and said, "I am afraid it is not so. You're mother, Harry, had only one sister. I'm sorry. It's obvious that you both wanted this."

"Are you absolutely positive. He said his mum ran away before mine was even born. Maybe you just did—"

"No, Harry, I am sorry." Dumbledore stood and ushered them to the door. "Now, I suggest you both get back to the common room. No doubt the Gryffindors will be celebrating their fine victory." And with that, he closed the door behind them.

"Sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to get your hopes up," said Mark sadly.

"It's not your fault. It's just…I've never really had a family. I've never really belonged anywhere except here. It'd have been nice to find out I had a cousin." He glanced over at Mark.

"Well, at least were friends, right?" said the boy proudly.

"Yeah."


	11. Valentines and Voldemort

hey. so i dont think ill be posting anything for a few days. i just got my wisdom teeth out and the drugs that they gave me don't exactly agree with my family. im either completely knocked out or puking in front of the toilet. this just happens to be a break between drugs where i just feel sick but im really just ok. anyways thanks to everyone whos read this. i will be back soon. its like ill have anything else to do once this all wears off. see u later!

* * *

Chapter 11Valentine's and Voldemort

"It's WHAT!" shouted Harry up in the boy's dormitory. Ron shrank away from him, mumbling something about birthdays and valentines.

"Sixteen. She's going to be sixteen." He paced the floor, dragging a hand through his hair. He rounded on his friend again. "And you waited till now to tell me this because…?"

Ron shrugged.

"Do you realize this is her _sweet_ sixteen…the _week_ before our first Valentine's Day, no less! What kind of brother are you?"

"An absentminded one," said Hermione, striding into the room and holding out a long essay. "You forgot this in the common room." She looked at Harry who was slightly red in the face from yelling. "What's going on?"

"He," Harry jerked his head toward Ron, "decided to tell me about Ginny's birthday the week of it!"

"Yeah. She's going to be sixteen," she mused, sitting down on the foot of Ron's bed. "I've never seen her more excited."

Harry let out something between a growl and a scream and began pacing the floor again. "What am I supposed to get her?" he asked, more to himself then anyone. Suddenly, he spun around and pointed to Hermione, "You're a girl, and you've already turned sixteen."

"Good job, Harry, it took you seven years to realize I'm a girl and only one to figure out that I turned sixteen. I guess I'd better watch out from now on." She rolled her eyes.

"Sorry." He threw himself backwards onto his bed. "I'm just so new at this and I don't want to mess it up."

Hermione moved over to his bed and leaned over Harry so she could look him in the face. "Harry, no matter what you do for Ginny on her birthday, she'll love it. That's not saying that you shouldn't try to do something really outstanding for her."

Pushing himself into a sitting position Harry said, "What can I get her?"

"All my family got me books and jewelry."

"Yeah, Harry! Ginny's never had much jewelry. We could never aff—I mean, we couldn't ever get her anything nice like that." Ron blushed and hunched over the essay Hermione had brought him.

"That's it." Harry jumped up from his bed and started digging through his trunk. "Hagrid gave me something of my mum's last year I think she'd like." He pulled a small golden locket out of a leather pouch. "You say someone's name and it shows a picture of them." He handed it to Hermione.

"I wonder what sort of charm makes it do that?" she whispered. "Harry this would be perfect."

"But that still leaves me stuck on what to do on Valentine's Day."

"It's a Hogsmead weekend isn't it?" piped in Ron. "Take her out like you did with Cho."

"Ron!" shouted Hermione. "Ginny is different than Cho." She turned back to Harry. "He's on to something about Hogsmead, but do not do the same things with her as you did with Cho. Just walk around the shops with her. Maybe you might want to stop at Madam Puddifoot's; she always celebrates Valentine's Day."

"But I went there with Cho."

"Well, that's okay. Just don't say anything about it," she said thoughtfully.

"Who knew this could all be so confusing!" he shouted, falling back on his bed again.

* * *

"Happy birthday, Ginny," said Ron hugging his sister on the evening of her birthday.

"Thanks, Ron," she said beaming. She sat down next to Harry who was doing homework on the floor near the fire. "And where have you been all day?"

"Around," said Harry innocently. He'd avoided Ginny all day so she would think he didn't know how special today was to her.

"You know—" but she was cut off as Hermione squealed loudly.

"Oh, Happy birthday!" she shouted, hugging the redhead tightly.

"Thanks, Hermione," she managed.

"So what all have you gotten?"

"Well, Ron got me some chocolates."

"Wasn't that nice of him," she said, throwing a hateful glare in his direction. "He didn't get me sweets for my sixteenth…"she grumbled, walking away.

"So it's your birthday today?" Harry asked carelessly, not looking up from his homework. "Well, happy birthday then," he muttered as he rolled up his parchment.

"Um…thanks."

"I need to go to the library," he said, hoping she would follow him.

"Me too. Can I come?"

Harry sighed in relief, but was able to turn it into a sigh of reluctance. "I guess."

Ginny followed him out the portrait hole, confusion written clearly on her face. Unable to keep a straight face any longer, Harry burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" she shouted. "You know, I'd have thought that you of all people, Harry, would have remembered my birthday."

Harry was taken aback at the rage in her voice. He pulled her into an empty classroom so that any teachers roaming the hallway wouldn't hear her. Suddenly serious, he said, "Who said I forgot?"

"What—" but she stopped as Harry produced a carefully wrapped package from his bag. She laughed and punched Harry playfully on the arm.

"Happy birthday, Gin," he said as she pulled his mother's locket from the paper.

"Harry, it's beautiful. Where did you get it?" she said, watching it twirl on the end of the chain.

"It belonged to my mum. If you say someone's name, it shows a photo of them." He took the locket from her and said, "Ginny Weasley." Then, he opened it and handed it back to her.

"I love it," she whispered, fastening it around her neck. "But why? This belonged to your mother. It must be hard to part with it," she asked, examining it closely.

"Not really. I mean what would I ever do with it? Besides, you deserve it," he said, putting a hand under her chin and tilting it upwards. He bent to kiss her but stopped. Footsteps were echoing in the corridor outside their classroom. He glanced at his watch and cursed.

"I didn't realize how late it was when we left! It's already past curfew! We have to get back to the common room," he whispered as the footsteps stopped outside the door.

"Shit!" Ginny breathed, looking around for a place to hide.

Harry grabbed her hand and dragged her around to behind the teacher's desk. He dropped to his knees and pulled her after him as the door opened. Professor McGonagall stepped in and peered through the gloom. Harry felt Ginny shaking with silent laughter beside him and he poked her hard in the ribs. McGonagall stood still for a second; then apparently satisfied that the room was empty, she left.

Harry and Ginny jumped from behind the desk and dashed to the door. Sticking his head out first, Harry made sure there were no teachers in the hallway before they stepped out into it. He grabbed Ginny's hand and dashed from the room, dragging her along behind him.

"Filch!" Ginny half whispered, half laughed to Harry. They darted behind a suit of armor and sunk into the shadows. The caretaker passed, humming tunelessly to "Mary had a Little Lamb." As he rounded a corner, the pair behind the armor stumbled out, cackling hysterically.

After a few moments of uncontrolled laughter, the two were off again. Peering around a corner not too far from Gryffindor Common Room, Harry spotted Snape. He took off in the other direction, Ginny in tow. He spied a broom closet and darted in there.

"Harry," Ginny said, breathing hard, "who was it?"

"Snape," he mouthed, holding a finger to his lips and bending over double to ease the stitch in his side.

Ginny pressed her ear against the door and was silent for a moment. "I think he's gone," she whispered finally.

Harry heard the doorknob rattle and tensed, thinking someone was going to open the door. No one did. Instead, Ginny said, "Harry, it's locked."

"Try _Alohomora_," he said calmly.

"_Alohomora_," she whispered. She tried the door again. "It didn't work."

Harry stepped forward. "_Alohomora_," he said forcefully to no avail. "_Alohomora! Alohomora! Alohomora!_" he tried again. Still nothing. He pushed hard on the door, willing it to burst open.

Tired, he sank to the floor with a defeated sigh. "Apparently, Filch wants to know who's been in his broom cupboards."

"Harry," Ginny squeaked.

"What?"

"I'm claustrophobic."

Harry hit the back of his head on the door.

* * *

Luckily for Harry, closed spaces had never bothered him. Perhaps it was because he had lived in a cupboard for nearly ten years or perhaps it was because he liked the dark. Either way, he was quite comfortable in this particular broom closet. Ginny, on the other hand, was not.

At first, she had been nearly hysterical, but that had been fixed by simply lighting a wand and proving that the space wasn't as enclosed as she had originally thought. Now, however, she was bored.

"Harry, I'm bored:" she stated after an hour of nothing.

"Well, you could listen to some of my songs."

"I didn't know you sang," Ginny said in surprise.

"I taught myself how to play the guitar this summer and singing kind of comes with the territory."

"Well, let's hear it." Ginny crossed her arms and leaned back against a box, settling in to be amused.

"Keep in mind, it's supposed to have a guitar with it, and I'm not very good at singing yet," he said.

"Don't try and weasel your way out of this one. Besides, I'm sure you sing very well."

Harry racked his brain, trying to think of a song she would like. He settled on one of his favorites and began slowly:

_Sometimes it's embarrassing to talk to you_

_To hold a conversation with the only one who sees right through_

_This version of myself I try to hide behind._

_I'll bury my face because my disgrace will leave me terrified._

_And sometimes I'm so thankful for you loyalty_

_Your love regardless of the mistakes I make will spoil me._

_My confidence is, in a sense, a gift you've given me_

_And I'm satisfied to realize you're all I'll ever need._

_You looked into my life and never stopped_

_And you're thinking all my thoughts_

_Are so simple but so beautiful._

_And you recite my words right back to me_

_Before I even speak_

_You let me know, I am understood._

_And sometimes I spend my time just trying to escape_

_I work so hard, so desperately, in an attempt to create space_

_Cause I want distance from the utmost important thing I know._

_I see your love, then turn my back, and beg for you to go._

_You looked into my life and never stopped_

_And you're thinking all my thoughts_

_Are so simple but so beautiful._

_And you recite my words right back to me_

_Before I even speak_

_You let me know, I am understood_

_You're the only one who understands_

_Completely._

_You're the only who knows me yet still loves me completely._

_And sometimes the place I'm at is at a loss for words._

_If I think of something worthy, I know that it's already yours._

_And through the times I've faded and you've outlined me again_

_You've just patiently waited to bring me back again._

_You're voice has broken my defense_

_Let me embrace salvation._

(Relient K, I Am Understood. I changed some of the words to fit the story. Sorry to any devout fans out there.)

"Wow," Ginny breathed. "Well, let's chalk up another one to you list of amazing talents, along with saving the world and catching the Snitch like no one's business." Harry chuckled and Ginny suddenly found she liked being the one to make him laugh. He almost never smiled any more with Ron and Hermione. They were too busy treading lightly around him or too wrapped up in each other to help him have fun.

She crept closer to him. "You know, I sing good too! You wanna see?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB!" she shouted in a surprisingly good impression of Filch, while Harry roared with laughter.

"Shhhh!" he whispered through the tears, putting a hand over her mouth to quiet her.

"You would be good actually," Harry complimented after a moment, a grin still playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Thanks. I'll remember that," she said playfully. "You know, you look much better like that."

"Like what? You can barely even see me."

"When you smile, I mean. You look different somehow." She shrugged, and then yawned. "Where are we going to sleep?"

"Sleep?" Harry asked, slightly nervous. It hadn't occurred being locked in a broom cupboard at night with Ginny would mean _sleeping_ in the broom closet with Ginny.

"Yes. Sleep. According to my watch, it's past your bedtime." She stood and lifted her wand to help her see around. "There's not much room. And there's nothing to use as a pillow or blanket."

Harry plucked at the front of his robes. "Pillow," he said blandly.

"Blanket," Ginny mocked, pulling her robes over her head, thankful she'd worn some semi-comfortable clothes under them today.

Harry lay down on his folded robes and got comfortable. He beckoned Ginny to him and she curled up with her head on his chest after she spread her own robes over them.

"Night, Gin," Harry whispered, kissing her gently on the forehead.

Ginny lay awake long after Harry. She wondered how anyone would possibly find them. She only hoped it would be a teacher who would understand, like Lupin, instead of Snape. She stared into the dark, listening to his deep, even breathing. Soon, Harry's beating heart lulled her to sleep.

It felt like only a few minutes later the next time opened her eyes. She pushed herself up and looked at Harry whose eyes were open. He put a finger to his lips and pressed his ear against the door.

"Where is it?" he heard. "It's got to be here somewhere."

"That Potter kid said something about a fat lady," said a second voice.

"I know where that's at. But we don't know the password," whispered the first person.

"We don't need the password. He can get in without it!" shouted number two. Harry heard them walking down the hallway.

Ginny clung hard to Harry's arm. "We need to tell Dumbledore," she whispered in a small scared voice.

"How?" Harry shouted. "Were stuck in Filch's damn CLOSET!" He stood up and kicked to door hard. "I just heard two Death Eaters talking about how to get into the Gryffindor common room, and I'm stuck in a cupboard listening to them."

"Harry, calm down, please," Ginny said forcefully. "We'll get out of this. Ron and Hermione will find us. I'm sure they're out looking for us now."

"Gin, it's one a.m. They're still asleep."

"Oh. Then they _will_ be looking for us. Besides, no one's getting near the common room tonight. The Fat Lady is up having a party with some of her friends." Ginny patted the floor near her. "Go back to bed, Harry."

Harry settled back in on the floor. "How can you be so calm?"

"You said yourself it's one in the morning. I'm sure when I'm fully awake I'll be very worried but now, I just want to sleep," she yawned, barely aware of what she was saying. She closed her eyes and was soon asleep again.

"Ginny, wake up!"

She unwillingly opened her eyes. When she took in the open door and Hermione standing in front of her, she jumped up and ran into the corridor.

"Do you want to explain to me how you and Harry got locked in that closet, please?" asked Hermione in a very cold voice. She rounded on Harry. "And you should know better! You're Head Boy, for heaven's sake."

"I know. It's not what you think," Harry started to explain.

"Harry! Dumbledore!" Ginny interrupted.

"You're right!" he shouted, taking off down the corridor. Ginny started after him, ignoring Hermione's look of pure confusion.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione slid to a stop in front of the stone gargoyle.

"What's going on, you guys?" Hermione panted while Harry murmured the password.

"We'll explain later," Ginny said as she dashed up the stairs after Harry. Hermione shrugged and raced behind them.

"Where is he?" asked Harry when he burst into the room.

Harry paced a while before sitting down. Ginny stood in the corner stroking Fawkes and Hermione took turns staring at the both of them. Finally she said, "Will someone tell me how the two of you ended up in a closet together, please?"

Harry and Ginny looked at each other and laughed. Ginny hummed "Mary had a Little Lamb" quietly to herself while Harry related last night's events. "And that's why we need to talk to Dumbledore," he finished.

"So Ron and I were right at the beginning of the year. We were starting to wonder," she whispered.

"How did you find us?" Ginny asked as she sat on the floor next to Harry's chair.

Hermione blushed and muttered something about her and Ron.

"What?" Harry asked, leaning forward a bit in his seat.

"Well, Ginny never came back upstairs, and it was her birthday so I thought…you know, so I went out to find you."

"But you waited till two to come looking for me. I feel loved," joked Ginny.

"I fell asleep!"

"You never said how you knew we were in the closet, though," Harry pointed out, a sly smirk playing across his face.

"Ron and I got locked in there once, okay!" she shouted loudly. "The only reason we didn't get a detention was because Lavender and her boyfriend wanted a bit of privacy and they found us before a teacher."

"I never knew!" Ginny said. "Mum would be furious if she found out!"

"I hate to break this up, but I must ask what three students are doing out of bed at four in the morning," Dumbledore said as he entered his office.

"Sorry, sir," said Harry as he jumped from his seat. "But Ginny and I heard something we think you should know about."

And Harry told his story from the beginning again. He didn't bother leaving out anything about being out after curfew because he knew Dumbledore would find out anyway.

"Are you sure this is what you heard?" Harry nodded. "Well, then, guards must be posted outside Gryffindor Common Room at all times of the day. I will not allow any more of Voldemort's followers near it," he said, and angry glint in his eyes. His look softened as he looked at Ginny.

"Before I forget, happy birthday, Miss Weasley. Why don't you all run along to bed. And don't worry tonight."

* * *

Harry woke the next morning, a little later than the rest of the Gryffindors, and headed down to breakfast with Ron who had waited to hear about the night before. "So that's why I didn't hear you come to bed last night," Ron said as the past a couple of Ministry officials guarding the portrait hole.

"I wish I could have seen who it was though. I would have hexed them into next year," he said viciously.

They entered the Great Hall a few minutes later and sat down at the Gryffindor table. The people sitting around Harry stared at him for a few moments; some glaring, others suppressing grins. Harry threw them a "what-are-you-looking-at?" look and turned to his food.

Ginny threw herself down in the bench next to him with an exasperated sigh.

"What?" Harry asked, pouring her some pumpkin juice, which she accepted thankfully.

"Do you know what they're saying about us?" she asked.

"No. Who's saying what?"

"Everyone! They made up they're own reasons for why we didn't make it back to the common room till late!" she shouted.

Harry snorted. "What could they possibly be saying that's got you so worked up?" he asked taking a bite out of a bit of toast then reaching for his goblet.

"Are you honestly this naïve, Harry?" She looked around the table to make sure no one was listening. "They say that I slept with you!" she whispered to him embarrassedly.

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice and accidentally spit some out.. "What!" he shouted, wiping his mouth. Ginny nodded. "But…I didn't…we didn't…Why would they…How could anyone say that?"

Ginny shrugged. "Does it really matter? They're saying it anyway."

Harry was fuming. He had a strange urge to jump up then and there and announce to the hall that he had not done anything with Ginny last night, or ever, for that matter. He looked around at the students staring at the pair of them. Ginny blushed and sank down in her seat. Harry glared at them and they returned to their breakfast.

Harry tipped his head forward onto the table with a loud thump.

* * *

Ginny and the seventh year Gryffindors were up late the night before Valentine's Day. She was helping the others study for their N.E.W.T.s, but they weren't getting far, much to Hermione's dismay. Instead, they were mostly sitting around talking about their plans for the next day.

"And what are you doing with Ron tomorrow, Hermione?" asked Lavender, pushing her book aside and starting to braid her hair.

"Well, I think he just wants to stay at the castle. But that's alright with—"

"Where did you get that, Ginny?" shouted Parvati, interrupting Hermione. She reached out and pointed at Ginny's locket, which was sticking, out of her pajama top.

"What?" She looked down. "Oh, this? I got it for my birthday." She took it off and handed it to Paravati. "Say someone's name," she instructed.

"Michael Corner. He's very nice looking," she explained.

Ginny laughed. "Now open it."

"Wow! That's weird," she gave it back to Ginny. "Who gave you that?"

"Harry."

"That's sweet of him."

"So, what's that like?" Lavender asked suddenly, moving over to Ginny and starting to do her hair too.

"What's what like?" Ginny asked confused.

Lavender stopped twisting Ginny's hair and bent so she could look at her. "You know," she said, "dating the famous Harry Potter. A lot of girls would kill to be in your shoes."

Everyone stopped moving in the room and stared at Ginny, who felt her cheeks flush.

She looked at the locket in her hand. "Well, it's nice. He's not like other guys. He doesn't do things for me and then go out and brag about them. When he does something for me, I know I don't have to do anything in return. I mean, I want to, but he makes sure I know I don't have to." She laughed. "I'm sure I sound like a nutter."

She looked up and saw that everyone was still staring at her. "What?"

"That was soooo….sweet," Hermione said.

"But what about your birthday?" Parvati asked. "Did you two…you know?"

"NO! He would never…I would never!" she shouted defensively.

"Then why were you two in a cupboard all night?" Lavender asked pointedly.

"Because we were out past curfew and we didn't want to get caught," she explained. "It locked us in."

"Oh," said Lavender

"Yeah, oh," fumed Ginny.

* * *

"Are you ready, Ginny?" asked Harry the next morning as he made to the leave the common room to head off to Hogsmead.

"Yeah," she sighed.

"What's the matter," he asked, noticing the depressed tone of her voice.

"Even Lavender and Parvati believed those stupid rumors about us," she spat. "You'd think they would have know better than that."

"People will believe what they want to believe. It's something I've gotten used to."

"Well, that's all very well for you. No one's calling you a slut," she snapped.

"Hey. Look I'm sorry, but you've just got to ignore it. It'll die down soon," he said as he held the door to the grounds open for her. He shushed her as they passed Filch.

He watched her bite her cheek and cross her arms. This was not how he wanted their first Valentine's Day to start. "Why don't we just forget about it? The people who matter know the truth."

She shook her head and looked back at Filch. Suddenly she started whistling loudly to "Mary Had a Little Lamb." Harry burst into laughter.

* * *

"Here we are," said Harry as he stopped outside Madam Puddifoot's. He opened the door and let Ginny pass through.

"Wow, Harry, this is…nice," Ginny tried to compliment.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, hiding the little eye roll he'd just done from Ginny. He led her over to a table and waited patiently for Madam Puddifoot. He felt something tickling his hair and looked up. More cupids. "Damn," he muttered.

"What?" said Ginny, brushing the hearts out of his hair.

"Nothing."

"What can I get you, dears?"

Harry looked and saw their waitress. "Umm…just tea for now," he answered.

"And for you?" she asked Ginny.

"A butterbeer please."

"We don't have any, sweetie."

"Oh, well, then I'll just have tea." She waited till Madam Puddifoot had left and said, "What kind of place doesn't carry butterbeer?"

As they waited for their tea, Harry watched Ginny trace the design on a lace doily. Every few minutes, she threw a nasty glare at the cupid above her as it threw down more pink paper hearts.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"No," she said quickly. After a moment she said, "Yes. You can't really expect me to believe that you _wanted _to come here, so who told you to take me here."

Harry relaxed. He'd expected something else to be upsetting her. "Actually," he confessed, "it was Hermione. Does that mean you don't like it here?"

"Of course I like it."

"Oh," Harry sighed. "Really?"

"No," she laughed. "I don't know what possessed Hermione."

"Thank you! I hate it here! I only did it because Hermione said you'd like it," he whispered.

"So are you thinking what I'm thinking?" She grinned broadly.

"Only if your thinking butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks."

"You read my mind."

Harry stood and tossed a Galleon on the table. The he linked Ginny's arm in his and led her past the couples at the other tables. He opened the door for her and bowed low with a laugh. Everyone in the small café stared at them as if they thought they were mad. As the door swung shut behind them, Harry and Ginny burst out laughing.

They reached the door of the Three Broomsticks and entered. It wasn't quite as crowded as Madam Puddifoot's. "Two butterbeers, please," Harry told the bartender. He handed some money to her and gratefully accepted the drinks.

"Yum," he said, licking his lips.

They sat alone for a while, talking about various things. Ginny told him what Lavender and Paravati had said the night before, and after hearing the whole story, Harry found it a bit easier to be sympathetic. At least, he would have been sympathetic if his scar hadn't been prickling painfully and a strange commotion outside hadn't been distracting him.

He peered intently out the window and saw masses of people sprinting madly down the narrow street. A few, he noticed, were running in the opposite direction, wands drawn. He turned to Ginny and opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but he was saved the trouble as a frightened woman slammed her way into the bar.

"Death Eaters!" she gasped, struggling to hold herself upright. "Near a hundred…down the street," she managed before she passed out cold on the floor.

Ginny raced to her aid while Harry scrambled to the door to check for himself. Sure enough, one hundred our so Death Eaters were making their way steadily down the lane, toward the school, stopped only by the few brave enough to stand in there way. Those who did fight back didn't pose much of a threat and were blasted away or killed almost instantly. Panicked, Harry dashed inside again as he explained to the few still there.

Harry convinced Ginny to leave the poor witch on the floor, figuring she'd be safer if she appeared to be dead already. Hopefully she wouldn't wake and try to go outside. They joined the ever-increasing group of people determined to fight and started off down the street toward the Death Eaters.

In a moment that carried an eternity within it, the two groups stood poised for battle. Harry glanced sideways and spotted Neville, looking quite pale and frightened, as he supposed he himself looked, and Luna Lovegood. He thought she looked a bit strange without her dreamy expression, which to Harry was an odd thought considering the circumstances.

Without warning, the sea of black before them erupted with curses fired every which way. Harry ducked and sent his own curses back their way. He watched as one Death Eater was hit squarely in the face and crumpled, without ever knowing what hit him. Harry didn't worry much about him; he'd only stunned him. Instead, he stepped over him, dodging a jet of red sent from another behind the man.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry cried. The man froze and Harry hit him with a vicious blow of his fist to the temple.

* * *

Ginny stood on a corner of a street she could remember hanging around on during her third year, looking down at a man (or women, she couldn't tell with the mask) who had just tried to curse her from behind. Shaking her head and trembling slightly, she dashed past an alley. She gave a muffled cry as two strong hands grabbed her arms and yanked her into the shadows.

She tried to cry out, but the person wrapped a hand over her mouth and held her tiny wrists in the other.

"Listen," he said, and Ginny thought the voice sounded vaguely familiar. "Stop squirming, I'm not going to hurt you."

Instead of holding still Ginny thrashed harder. She felt one hand come free. Whirling around she whipped the man's hood off and pointed her wand squarely between his eyes. She gasped as she stared back into the same gray eyes that had glared at her for the past six years.


	12. Memories with a Bit of Fudge

Thanks to all who reviewed. im glad u liked it. just so u know, this story finally broke the 1000 hits mark. kinda happy bout that. anyways thanks. and i wanna say a special hello to my cuzzy who i just saw has actually taken the time to read this (again). im out!

* * *

Chapter 12 Memories With a Bit of Fudge 

"Look out, Neville!" Harry shouted, ignoring his own battle. Neville turned and was hit from behind. He looked at Harry for a moment before collapsing.

"No!" Harry screamed. He turned back to the Death Eater he'd been fighting and fought him all the more furiously. "Protego!" he yelled. "Stupify!"

* * *

"Malfoy?" she asked, forgetting about cursing him. He nodded, dropping his wand and brining both hands up to where she could see them. "What do you want?"

"You need to get to Dumbledore. Someone's got to warn him; he'll be able to help you," he said to her.

Ginny nodded and lowered her wand. "But why are you here with them?"

"That doesn't matter now! Just go!" he shouted, pushing her out of the alley.

With a last confused look back at him, she dashed down the street to Honeydukes, praying it wasn't locked. It wasn't. She raced inside and down the stairs to the storage room. She looked around at the floor, trying to remember where Harry had said that the trapdoor was. She found it and dropped through it.

She sprinted down the passage as fast as she could, but she still didn't feel like she was going fast enough. The only sound she heard was her beating heart and the pounding of her feet on stone. Her heart leapt as she saw the end of the tunnel.

She burst into the brightly lit corridor and paused a moment before rushing off again. She barreled around a corner and ran straight into the object of her search.

"Miss Weasley," he cried in surprise. "What is it?"

She tried to calm herself enough to explain herself but it didn't work. Instead, the words came out in a jumble she hoped Dumbledore would understand.

"DeathEatersinHogsmeadandweneedhelp," she said in one breath.

Dumbledore paled. "Is Harry still down there?"

Ginny nodded.

"Go warn the rest of the school to stay inside and make sure the teachers know what is happening."

Ginny was off running again.

* * *

Harry was trapped; no more than a caged animal. He gazed around as if in some sort of spell, and his heart dropped into his stomach. No one would save him this time. He turned back to the Death Eater closing in on him and raised his head high. Harry stared down the end of a wand and closed his eyes, not wanting to die wide-eyed and staring.

"STUPIFY!" someone shouted.

"What?" Harry asked, opening his eyes. His Death Eater lay unconscious on the ground at his feet. Harry looked up for the sound of his voice and only saw another Death Eater coming his way. _"Must have wanted to kill me himself,"_ thought Harry bitterly, wishing his wand wasn't lying mere feet away but still just beyond his reach.  
But to his amazement, Harry saw the Death Eater stoop and pick it up. Handing the wand to Harry he said, "Don't actually curse me; just pretend. Dumbledore's on his way."

"Dumbledore's on his way…" The words echoed loudly in Harry's mind and gave him a familiar sense of comfort.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked as he pretended to fire a curse at Malfoy.

Ducking, Malfoy said, "Lucky me got called out here."

"Why?"

"Duck!" Malfoy shouted suddenly.

"What?"

Malfoy didn't answer again. Instead he pushed Harry down flat on his back and stooped over him, pointing his wand at Harry. Harry saw a curse whiz harmlessly over their heads.

"Thanks," he whispered as he scrambled to his feet again.

Malfoy stared over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to look and found Dumbledore striding purposefully toward the fray with a few members of the Order and teachers following him. Around Harry, all fighting stopped and a few Death Eaters even turned and ran.

"He's made it so they can't Disapparate," Malfoy whispered to Harry.

"Then what about you?" Harry asked. "You can't get caught, can you?"

"No." With that, he dashed into a dark alley and pulled off his black robes to reveal his Hogwarts ones underneath. He tossed his old robes into a stinking trashcan and hid among the shadows.

Harry watched Dumbledore in amazement. With a quick flick of his wand, something like and invisible barrier went up around the Death Eaters. Some tried to escape, but they were just thrown roughly back inside. Once Harry was sure that no one could escape the spell, he dashed over to Neville, who was still lying motionless on the ground.

Harry knelt down beside him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Neville's chest rise and fall. Thankfully the curse had only knocked him unconscious.

Feeling movement beside him, Harry looked up and saw Madame Pomfrey kneeling in the dirt next to him. Quickly she muttered the countercurse and Neville started to stir. Harry helped him to his feet.

Harry turned around to look for Dumbledore, but both he and the Death Eaters were gone. He wondered where they'd gone. Azkaban was no use; they'd just escape from there anyway, and the Ministry couldn't help either. Harry shook his head.

* * *

"Harry!" shouted Hermione from across the common room later that night. She ran to him, scowling.

"What do you think you were doing out there?" she asked fiercely.

"What do you mean?" he asked back stupidly.

"You should not have been out there! You're the one who has to stop Voldemort! We can't have you killed fighting some stupid Death Eaters," she shouted.

"I'm fine!"

"But things could have turned out differently…and what if they did?" she asked him.

"I was trying to help my school! To help you!"

"I know, and I thank you for that, but you really must start being more careful," she pleaded.

"Well, fine! Next time anyone needs their ass saved, I will make sure that I'm a good boy and that I sit by and _watch_!" he fumed. With that, he stormed up to his dormitory without a second glance.

As he entered the quiet sanctuary of the dormitory and flopped facedown onto his bed, he thought to himself. It had been a while since he'd gone to pieces like that. He knew Hermione had only said those things because she cared but he still wished he could make her understand. A soft knock interrupted his musings. Harry expected it to be Hermione coming to apologize but he wasn't ready to hear it so he kept his face smothered in the sheets.

He heard the door open and close and sensed someone standing near his bed. "Go away, Hermione," he said to into his comforter.

"I'm not Hermione."

Harry looked up as Ginny sat next to him. "Ginny, I feel awful. Hermione and I never fight. Sure she would get mad when I took Ron's side in something but we've never really argued. When Ron and I got into it, no matter what she was always there…for both of us."

Ginny rubbed his back and spoke softly to him, as Harry supposed a mother would have done. He suddenly felt himself longing for his parents and a lump formed in his throat. He swallowed and focused on what Ginny was saying.

"She only said those things because she was worried about you today. She cares about you and doesn't want anything to happen to you."

"Where is she now?" Harry asked, wondering if she was reacting anything like him.

"Downstairs with Ron. I think he's telling her pretty much the same thing I said."

Harry pushed himself off his bed. "I should go apologize," he said, heading for the door. He opened it and found Hermione standing with her fist poised to knock.

"I'm sorry," they blurted at the same time.

Harry grinned and beckoned her into a hug.

* * *

Neville returned from the hospital wing later that night shortly after Harry had climbed into bed. No one said much and for this Harry was glad. He hadn't been one for conversation lately so his roommates mostly left him alone.

Long after everyone else had fallen asleep, Harry lay staring at his hangings. He found it difficult to believe that not even twelve hours ago, Hogwarts, his home, had been blatantly attacked. If Dumbledore hadn't shown up, he didn't want to think about what would have happened. He and his friends would probably be dead by now. He shuddered.

He rolled over onto his side and stared at the hangings around his bed. Neville muttered something about fudge in his sleep and Harry vaguely wandered why the boy was dreaming about chocolate. At least Neville was getting some sleep then, and not everyone was awake late into the night tonight.

Harry had almost completely fallen asleep when a shout from one of his roommates woke him. He threw back his hangings and stared about wondering who it could possibly have been and why. His gaze fell to Neville who was sitting straight up in bed and looked near as pale as Nearly Headless Nick.

"What is it, Neville?" Ron asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"I…Fudge…He…" Neville gave up.

"What?" Harry said, confused.

"He was the one who…He helped that Lestrange woman with the Cruciatus Curse on my parents," he mumbled to himself.

"Who?" Dean inquired, more awake now than he had been a few moments earlier.

"Fudge!" he shouted, causing Harry to jump. "I've remembered! I was there! He put a Memory Charm on me, even though I was a baby."

"Wait…Fudge is the reason your parents are in St. Mungo's?" Harry asked slowly, things starting to click into place. Bertha Jorkins had been forgetful, or so he'd heard, only after she'd had a powerful memory charm put on him. Sirius had even said at Hogwarts she'd had a memory for gossip quite unrivaled at the time. Neville had always had an amazingly poor memory, worse than could possibly be natural. It only made sense.

"And that's why he wouldn't join our side after You-Know-Who came back?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Crouch Jr. knew," he said, quite aware that everyone was staring at him. He'd never talked about what had happened to him after the third task with anyone but Hermione and Ron. He thought back to that night. Fudge had hurriedly administered the Dementor's Kiss before any one could question Crouch. Apparently he knew something Fudge didn't want known.

"But, Harry," Ron said, interrupting Harry's reverie, "Fudge was killed by Death Eaters this summer. Why would they kill oneof their own?"

"I don't know," Harry whispered.

"You need to tell Dumbledore," Seamus said, looking quite pale himself.

Neville and Harry both nodded.

Harry and Neville both slept late the next day. It had been very late when they'd returned from speaking with Dumbledore, so late that the early risers at Hogwarts were starting to straggle down into the Great Hall. Harry did not like the fact that he had Quidditch practice today on top of everything else either. With a moan he collapsed onto a couch next to Ron in the Gryffindor common room.

"What'd he say last night?" Ron asked as soon Harry had settled in.

"He said he'd been suspecting it for a while but he couldn't be sure. Even now he can't tell 'cause we don't even have a body to find Voldemort's mark on," Harry mumbled, sinking deep into the chair and letting the warmth from the fire wash over him.

Apparently Ron couldn't take a hint though. He kept questioning Harry. "How did Neville remember all of the sudden?"

"Well, a memory charm can be broken with powerful magic. I guess whatever curse Neville was hit with in Hogsmead was powerful enough to do it."

"Why'd Fudge put a memory charm on him in the first place? I mean, he was just a baby," Ron said.

"I partly remember Voldemort killing my parents, I just thought it was a car crash. Maybe it was just a precaution."

"I still can't believe Fudge would do that. Hey, is there practice today?"

Harry groaned.


	13. The Final Quidditch Final

Hey im back. i still dont feel very good but its been a while since ive been on here so i figured id put up another chapter. its kinda short but im still in a lot of pain. anyways here u go.

* * *

Chapter 13 The Final Quidditch Final

"Nervous, Harry?" asked Lupin the day of the last Quidditch game of the season and Harry's last game at Hogwarts.

Harry was silent a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie and say he wasn't or tell the truth. He settled for the latter. "Yeah," he laughed.

Lupin clapped him on the back and chuckled. "Don't be. You've got nothing to worry about, except the weather of course."

Harry knew he was right. He'd drilled his team harder than anyone thought possible. He believed they were ready but again he was not looking forward to playing in these conditions. The weather seemed to have something against Gryffindor winning the cup this year. It was almost exactly as it had been the day Mark had filled in for Harry.

"Trust me, your father would be proud," finished Lupin with a pained expression. He looked at Harry a moment and sighed before striding away.

* * *

"Captains shake hands," shouted Madam Hooch. Harry stepped forward and tried not to get blown away. He extended his hand to Malfoy and was surprised at the cold way it was received. Harry knew he wasn't acting. Apparently Malfoy wanted to win this match.

Watching for the whistle to be blown, Harry mounted his broom and tried to kick some of the mud and muck off his soggy shoes. The whistle went to Madam Hooch's lips and Harry kicked off hard from the ground.

Harry straightened his broom and soared higher. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Malfoy shooting off down toward the other end of the pitch. Harry made sure he wasn't zooming toward the Snitch and then turned back to his own search.

For a moment, Harry thought he heard a roar rise from the crowd. He flew over to Ron who was guarding the goal posts and didn't have much to do at the moment. "Who scored?" Harry shouted.

"Dennis, I think!" Ron bellowed back.

Grinning, Harry once again set off through the pelting rain. He searched high and low for near half and hour, every once in a while pausing to vent his feelings depending on who scored, before he spotted a tiny glint of gold near the ground. Making sure Malfoy wasn't near, he dove toward the ground at top speed. Paying attention to nothing but the sound of the wind rushing by his ears, Harry reached forward with one hand but over balanced. He flipped over the end of his broom and rolled head over heels through the mud.

Sitting up, he stared at his hands in his lap. He didn't move for a moment and play continued above him. Opening his hands, he saw the tiny Snitch lying in the palm of his hand. Slowly he raised it up over his head.

At first no one noticed him, but as he finally made it to his feet, a dull roar started in the Gryffindor section and worked its way around the stadium. As his teammates heard the cheering, they looked down to Harry, covered from head to toe in muck and mud, waving the Snitch over his head.

Harry suddenly found himself being pelted by scarlet blurs. Ginny was kissing him; Hermione was hugging him and jumping up and down, squealing shrilly in his ear while Ron thumped him on the back. All the while, Harry stared in disbelief at the Snitch in his hand.

"We've won, Harry!" Hermione screeched joyfully.

"What?" Harry asked quietly.

"You did it! We've one the Quidditch cup!" Ginny exalted.

"I did?" Harry asked dumbfounded, as the cup was passed to him. "We did!" he shouted after a moment.


	14. Hogwarts Most Talented Kid

**Chapter 14 Hogwarts Most Talented Kid**

After a week or so, the excitement of the match began to wear off. It only _began_ to wear off, as Ron refused to let anyone forget it. He constantly brought it up in conversations and had no problem reliving the entire match, sometimes for an hour at a time. Harry, on the other hand, wished he'd let it go. Of course Harry liked the attention because he felt at least this time he deserved it, but he knew this instance was no different than anyone else winning, and, personally, he was tired of the pats on the back and shouts of congratulations raining down on him in the halls. In the end, he (very kindly) asked Ron to lay off. When that didn't work, Ginny and Hermione both had a word with him, and since then, he'd not said a thing pertaining to the match.

One night, a few weeks before N.E.W.T.s, Harry and the rest of the fifth and seventh years were up late studying, as usual. Most of them barely noticed Professor McGonagall enter and pin a few things to the notice board. Ginny, who wasn't studying for anything life-changingly important, strolled over to check it out.

When she returned, grinning from ear to ear and staring at Harry, she said, "Bad news. No more Hogsmead trips this year."

Confused, Harry asked, "Then why are you grinning like you've just been made queen?"

"I think you should go look for yourself."

Thankful for a break, however small, from studying with Hermione, Harry rose from his chair and followed Ginny across the room. She pointed to a large notice and Harry read:

_So you think you're talented?_

_Why not win money for it?_

_April 24_

_7:00 p.m._

_100 Galleon Prize!_

_The best talent scouts in the magic world might just choose you as the next Celestina Warbeck!_

"But, Ginny, what's this got to do with me?" he asked stupidly. "I haven't got any talents except for playing Quidditch, and everyone's already seen that."

"Oh, right, Mr. I-taught-myself-to-play-the-guitar-and-now-I-sing-too."

"You can't possibly expect me to get up there and make a fool of myself!"

"Talent scouts, Harry!" she stressed, pointing at the notice. "You can't tell me you don't want to be famous." She stopped abruptly and put a hand over her mouth. "Oh."

"Exactly. I'm already famous and I hate it. Why make it worse?" Thinking the argument closed, Harry started off across the common room again. Ginny wasn't done, though, and she followed after him.

"But the experience would be good. Getting up in front of crowds and all."

Harry stopped and faced her. "You really want me to do this?"

She nodded and a huge grin spread across her face. "Please," she whined, adding in some puppy dog eyes for good measure.

Harry sighed and looked back at the bulletin board where a small crowd had gathered. "Every time…" he muttered. He sighed again. "All right," he agreed, "but only if you stay and watch. I'll need some emotional comfort after I lose," he added jokingly.

"So what is it?" Ron asked when Harry and Ginny returned to their work.

"A talent show," said Harry plainly.

"Oh?" said Hermione, looking up from her essay on the uses of graphorn skin.

"Yeah," Harry continued. "Ginny wants me to do it."

Ron glared at Ginny. He obviously believed Harry would never want to do anything of the sort. Actually deep down, Harry thought it would be fun, and he told Ron this. He'd never been on stage before, although he'd heard about talent shows at school before Hogwarts.

"Why would Dumbledore do this?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Maybe to take out minds off the war and everything. Who knows? I mean he is Dumbledore, does he really need a reason?" said Ron admiringly.

"Well, in that case, I agree with Ginny, Harry," said Hermione. "I think you should do it. What would you do, though?"

"Well, I could play a song on my guitar, and maybe sing a bit," he said thoughtfully. "Yeah, I could. But which song?"

"When did you get a guitar?" Ron asked loudly. Harry shushed him with a look.

"I saved up for one by doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. Then I sorta taught myself how to play," he explained quickly. Then he turned back to the matter at hand. "But which song?"

"I don't know any but that one," Ginny said, "but it was really good. Maybe you should do that one."

"That certainly is the best, by far," Harry thought aloud. After a few more moments deliberation he said, "Alright, I'll do it." He turned back to his work without another word.

* * *

As the show drew nearer, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny decided to sit in on some of Harry's practices and critique him. He would always do very well until someone mentioned something about showing other people.

"No offense, Harry, but you've never been that great in front of crowds," nettled Hermione one afternoon.

"I'm getting better," he said unconvincingly. He attempted to play again, but he was more than a little off. The sour note made him wince.

The week before Harry's performance, he still refused to play. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who all truly believed Harry had a shot at winning, were fed up with his excuses and decided to come up with a plan.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked as Ron and Hermione entered the dormitory that Tuesday.

"Library," said Ron shortly. Harry noticed him shoot Hermione a sideways glance, and he wondered to himself what they were hiding.

A few minutes in, Harry successfully made it through the entire song without stopping. He'd found it difficult to concentrate while his two best friends kept peeking knowingly at each other when they thought Harry wasn't looking. Finally he said, "Am I missing something?"

Hermione laughed and Ron said sheepishly, "No." Hermione laughed harder and Ron blushed. "Well, yes," he finally managed.

Hermione stood and walked over to the door. When she opened it, nearly all of Harry's Gryffindor friends stood outside, grinning broadly. Ginny waved at him from the front.

"I never knew you could do that!" exclaimed Neville loudly.

"I hear the ladies love a man who can play the guitar," said Seamus slyly. "Do you think you could teach me?"

Harry was torn between gratitude at his friends trying to break his stage fright and his embarrassment. He felt like Percy who used to get caught singing in the shower by other inhabitants at the Burrow.

Ron waved away the others and Ginny stepped in and flopped down laughing on Harry's bed. "You should have seen your face!" she screeched joyfully.

Harry glared hard at Ron who said, "Don't look at me! It was Ginny's idea"

Ron was suddenly hit in the face with a pillow. "You said you wouldn't tell!" Ginny shouted at him. Then more softly to Harry she said, "Can you blame me? I mean, you were really being ridiculous. You needed to get over stage fright and obviously our telling you that you're good isn't enough. I just thought if you heard it from others…" She trailed off.

Harry tried to glare at her, but he found it difficult to stay mad at her. He sighed and said, "As much as I hate to admit it, I actually enjoyed that."

Ron laughed loudly.

* * *

"Nervous, Harry?" Ginny asked innocently as she and Harry sat backstage, waiting for Harry's act.

"No," he said, a bit too quickly and enthusiastically. He turned from checking his appearance in a mirror and asked, "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you've never been one who cared how he looked, yet I've seen you check your reflection tonight more than you have your entire life," she said pointedly.

"You're right," he admitted. He turned his back on the mirror. "I suppose I am a bit nervous."

"Only a bit?" Ginny smirked at him and crossed her arms.

"Have some pity on me. I'm not used to this stuff," he joked.

She turned him to face her and wrapped her arms around him. "I'll have pity on you if you take my word that you'll do absolutely wonderful—"

Harry started to turn towards the mirror again.

"And that you look _fine_. I should be the most envied girl in the school after tonight," she added for good measure.

Harry smiled at her.

"So, Potter, are you prepared to lose spectacularly to me?" asked a voice jokingly from behind.

Harry spun to face Malfoy. He glanced quickly around to make sure they weren't being watched before saying, "I thought you weren't speaking to me after that Quidditch game."

"Nah," said Malfoy. "I mean, I wanted to win, but it just wasn't worth it."

"So what are you doing in this?" Harry asked, glad to avoid another confrontation with Malfoy.

"Excerpt from Julius Caesar."

"Being a bit daring, aren't we, Malfoy, reading from a play written by a Muggle?"

"Shows how much you know, Potter. For you information, Shakespeare was as pureblooded as me. How else do you think he managed to write all those plays in such a short period of time?" argued Malfoy.

Harry raised his hands in defeat. "Suits me right for being so blind to the obvious," he said sarcastically.

"Ummm, Malfoy," Ginny said, speaking up for the first time. "You might want to go."

"Go? Where?"

"You're up."

"Whoops!" he shouted as he ran out onto the stage.

Calmly, he smoothed his hair back, cleared his throat, and began to speak:

"Why, man, doth he bestride the narrow world like a colossus, and we petty men walk under his huge legs and peep about, to find ourselves dishonorable graves. Men at sometimes are masters of their fate. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars but in ourselves that we are underlings…"

Harry didn't hear the rest. He, like the rest of the crowd, was entranced by the emotion Malfoy poured into his monologue. For a moment, he forgot this was his seventeen-year-old ex-enemy on stage at a wizarding school. He seemed to become Cassius.

Bringing himself back to his senses, he whispered to Ginny, "I can't go on after that!"

"Yes you can!" she assured him. "Once you get out there, they won't even remember Malfoy."

Harry looked back out to the crowd, where everyone was still hanging on Malfoy's every word. "Ginny that's not Malfoy anymore. He _is_ Cassius."

"Who's Cassius?"

Harry ignored her. "That's it. I can't do. I'll just have to tell them I've got the flu or something."

"Harry James Potter! You are not going to chicken out now!" she scolded in an amazingly good impression of her mother. "You are going to get out there, you will sing, you will play music, and you will enjoy it!" She looked over his shoulder and finished, "And you will do it now." She kissed his cheek quickly, shoved his guitar into his hands and pushed him on stage.

With a nervous gulp, Harry moved to the center of the stage and seated himself on a high stool. He breathed deep and strummed an offhand melody. "I think you all know this song," he said as the tune changed to "Mary had a Little Lamb." He stared right at Filch, who was lingering near the back of the hall and smirked. Filch blanched and his features darkened. He heard Ginny chuckle loudly from off stage as every jaw in the crowd dropped.

"What? Don't you like it?" Harry asked with all the seriousness he could muster. Suddenly he laughed. "You didn't think I would actually get up here and sing a nursery song to you, did you?"

The students were silent. He noticed a few people look questioningly at each other.

"Obviously you did. Well, I'm not," he finished hurriedly. "I've got something else a little bit more mature."

"Oh, Harry, that was _amazing_!" Ginny squealed as she threw her arms around him. "You'll win for sure!"

"I don't know about that. I'm just glad I got up there without making a fool of myself!"

Ron suddenly appeared at her shoulder. He was beaming. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant," he said, clapping Harry on the back.

* * *

"And, now, I'd like to have all the contestants back on stage so I can announce the winner," said Dumbledore with a benign smile on his face.

"Good luck, Harry," whispered Hermione as Harry strode back out onstage.

"I'd just like to congratulate all of you. If it were up to me, you'd all win! But, it's your fellow students who make that decision and only one of you can be named Hogwarts' Most Talented Kid." He grinned at the squirming performers and laughed.

"I can tell you're all anxious, so perhaps I'll relieve you. In third place, earning fifty points for her house…Pansy Parkinson."

She stepped forward with a small curtsey and accepted the trophy held out by the headmaster. "Well done," he congratulated.

Harry felt his chances for making it into the top three dwindling. Pansy had played the piano quite well; there was no way Harry could have beaten her. Dumbledore's voice brought Harry back to reality.

"And in second place, earning a nice one hundred points to his house…Mr. Harry Potter."

Harry stepped forward with a look of mild surprise on his face. He grinned broadly as the headmaster handed him a trophy and returned to his spot, eager to see the winner.

"And finally, Hogwarts' Most Talented Kid, and winner of two hundred points," here he paused to let the suspense build. Then, with a knowing grin he said quietly, "Mr. Draco Malfoy."

Draco walked numbly forward and thanked the headmaster while Harry and the rest of the contestants slipped quietly off the stage.

"Congratulations!" Ginny shrieked as Harry twirled her around. He was in quite a good mood. He'd never thought he had any talents aside from Quidditch, and suddenly he'd been proven wrong.

"Harry, someone here would like to talk to you," said Hermione coolly as she approached him. A man Harry had never seen before was following her and as soon as he saw Harry, he pushed Hermione out of the way and stuck out a hand.

"Bob Markosowitz," the man said pompously as he pumped Harry's arm up and down enthusiastically. "I must congratulate you on behalf of Groove Records on a wonderful performance tonight."

"Er—thanks," Harry said unsurely.

The man was silent for a moment and he stood staring at Harry, who began to feel more than a little uncomfortable. Slowly, Harry started to turn away, hoping the man was finished.

"Wait, Harry, I can call you Harry, right?" Bob said quickly. With a sigh, Harry turned back around. "Of course I can," the man continued with an oily smile.

"What do you want," Harry asked tiredly.

"Well," Bob began, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulder and leading him away from his friends, "we at Groove Records are always on the lookout for new talent. And after watching you tonight, kid, I saw that you got something we're looking for."

"What have I got? A scar on my forehead and the last name Potter," Harry spat cruelly.

Bob frowned at him. Then he lowered his voice and continued, "I won't lie to you. Your past and the things that you've done would help you a lot."

"No thanks," Harry said, heading back to his friends.

"But I could make you famous! I know you'd like that."

Harry stopped and looked the man right in the eyes. "Do you have any clue what you just said?" Bob shook his head looking a bit nervous. "Of course you don't. Well, I'll help you. You said you could make me famous. Now I'm going to tell you something not many people know," he paused one hand on his temple. "Oh wait, everyone knows this. I am famous! I am already more famous than you could ever hope to make me! And you know something else too; I hate it. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks." Again Harry turned back to his friends.

"Don't make a decision you'll regret later, Harry!"

"You know, I feel sorry for you, so I'm going to give a you a bit of help. I know you deal with music, but I've got a friend over there that is an amazing actor. You should talk to him. Find him an agent. Good night."

Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Thank you, Harry," she gasped. "I needed to see you put that overgrown, pompous," here she growled, "in his place."

"I think I'm more proud than I've been all night," beamed Ginny.


	15. Farewell to Hogwarts

Sorry that i havent updated in a while but its my sr. year in high school so the teachers for some reason seem to think that means we want to do more homework. i dont know what theyre thinking. chances are i wont be on here during the week cuz i have something going everyday except for friday, unless i work that day but i get off fairly early anyway. so to make a really long story short, look for me on fridays.thank u to everyone who reviewed. i really appreciated it a lot. but enough of the jabbering, u all want to read. ill let u alone.

* * *

Chapter 15—Farewell to Hogwarts 

Harry looked up at Ron as he finished packing his trunk. "I can't believe we're actually done," he said mournfully sitting on his bed.

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "Wish mum could have made it. She would have loved to have seen the three of us leave Hogwarts."

"But, we're not done yet. I mean there's still the farewell feast. Let's just get down there and enjoy the time we've got," Harry said hopefully. After all the pain that Hogwarts had caused him over the year, he was still reluctant to leave its walls.

"You're right. We can be sad tomorrow," Ron said, rising from his bed. "One more night."

Harry nodded and watched him leave. He sat for a few more seconds before following him down to the common room.

He spotted Ginny far removed from things on the other side of the room. Since she had inherited Fred and George's need for the spotlight, this was strange for her. Harry went over to her happily and said, "Why such a long face?"

"Could it be because my three best friends are leaving me tomorrow morning?"

"Oh, none of that. I won't be leaving you. I'll be at your house all summer. I expect you'll be sick of me by the time you have to come back next year," Harry said kneeling in front of her chair so they were eye level.

"That's just it. I'm not worried about the summer! It's next year! Who am I gunna talk with? You guys are my only real friends here."

"What about the other sixth year girls?"

She made a noise of disgust but didn't answer.

"Well, I'll write to you every chance I get. And I don't think Ron and Hermione are planning on just forgetting about you as soon as you leave the Burrow."

"I know but it just won't be the same."

* * *

"Harry, I need to talk to you," Ron said seriously as the girls headed up to their dorm. 

"Sure," Harry said, sitting in his favorite chair right in front of the fire. "What about?"

"Promise you won't tell Mione or Ginny?" he asked seriously.

Harry nodded, noticing that his friend looked very nervous indeed.

"I'm going to do it," Ron said.

Obviously this was supposed to mean something, but Harry was lost. "Do what?"

"I'm going to ask Mione. I'm going to ask her to marry me."

"What! Are you sure? I mean, you don't want to rush into these things."

"Harry, I'd hardly call this rushing. It took me six years to realize that I love her and I'm not going to let her get away. And it's not like we have to do it right away. I mean, we can wait a while."

"Well, if you're sure. Have you told anyone else?"

Ron shook his head. "You're the first one, mate. And the last one, till I talk to Mione tomorrow."

Harry grinned broadly. "Well, then congratulations. I knew it was only a matter of time. Granted, it was a looong time…"

Ron nodded sheepishly. "Well, then, I guess I'd better get to bed. Tomorrow's going to be a long day. Plus, I have to figure out when I'm going to ask her."

"Aren't you coming up, Harry?" Ron asked when Harry didn't follow him upstairs.

"No, I think I'll just stay down here for a while longer."

Ron nodded. "Alright. See you in the morning."

He frowned at the thought of his last night in the castle. He'd waited seven years for this and now he was reluctant to see it go. Of course he knew it was highly unlikely this would really be his last time here and that gave him some comfort. He looked at Crookshanks curled up on the hearthrug in front of the fireplace and sighed.

"I guess I'd better get to bed. It's going to be an interesting day tomorrow, Crookshanks."

Harry ascended the stairs to his dormitory and opened the door. One quick glance around told him that all his roommates were already sleeping. Slowly he pulled on his pajamas and climbed into bed. Twitching the hangings around his bed closed, Harry shut out the night and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

"Up! Get up!" Ron shouted as he ripped open the velvet curtains. Dazzling sunlight blinded Harry, who rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head. 

"Come on, Harry, we're leaving today!"

Harry groaned. He had never been a morning person and this was not how he usually liked to be awoken in the morning. "What happened to being sad?" he mumbled.

"I thought last night. No more Hogwarts means no more Snape, no more Trelawney, no more detentions, no more exams, and no more homework! You can't tell me you'll miss all of that."

"No, but I miss sleeping. What time is it?" Harry muttered, desperately trying to stay awake long enough to tell Ron off.

Ron laughed. "Seven."

Harry sat straight up. "What! The train doesn't leave until eleven!"

"I know. But I thought you'd want to say good-bye to everyone."

Falling backwards onto his pillow, Harry moaned, "No. I can say bye on the train or in the station, or not at all…"

"Oh, sorry," Ron apologized. "I just thought, you know…never mind. Go back to sleep."

"Its too late now. I'm awake and I won't be able to sleep again," Harry said, rolling out of bed and laughing at his reflection in the mirror. His hair stood up more than ever and his cheek was red where he'd slept on it.

"Wonderful," he joked. "I'm taking a shower and then heading down for breakfast. Will you all wait for me?"

Ron nodded and headed to the common room.

Twenty minutes later, Harry, now awake and presentable, met up with his friends near the fireplace. The common room was rowdy as ever and it was difficult to hear any one person speak. Rolling his eyes, Ron motioned for everyone to follow and they headed down to the Great Hall.

"Just think, this is our last breakfast here," Hermione said sadly as she loaded her plate up.

"Yeah," Ron agreed with an insanely huge grin on his face.

"No more classes," Hermione continued with a frown.

"No more classes!"

"No more homework," she seemed near tears now.

"No more homework!" Ron sighed, barely able to contain his excitement, though Harry strongly suspected that Hermione mistook his glee for sorrow.

"I'll miss the library," sighed Hermione.

"The libr—The library?" asked Ron in disbelief. "Of all the things here, you'll miss the library? What kind of person are you?" he continued, as if she were something from another planet.

"Yes, Ron, I'll miss the library. And I'm a completely normal person, thank you very much."

Harry shook his head at his friends and busied himself with his food. He stopped suddenly. "Do you remember that time you lied to McGonagall for us, Hermione? Back in first year?"

She nodded. "Of course I wouldn't have had to lie if you and Ron hadn't locked me in the bathroom with a troll," she joked.

"You know, what I remember most is Valentine's Day in our second year. Ginny wrote Harry that hideous song!" Ron teased.

"It wasn't that bad," Harry said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Don't lie," Ginny said shortly. "It was horrible. But Fred and George made me do it."

"Yes, but you were still the one who wrote it," Ron said pointedly.

Ginny blushed a deep red. "Well, how about you, Ron. Does the Yule Ball ring any bells?"

Now it was Ron's turn to flush crimson. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ginny was on a roll, so she continued. "I'll refresh your memory. I seem to recall a certain red-haired boy waiting until the last minute to ask a certain girl whom everyone knew he liked to the ball. Then said boy got all mad because that girl already had a date." She smirked at her brother. "If my memory serves me right, that boy refused to dance all night and sat glaring at his crush and her date."

By now, Ron was, if possible redder than his hair, and Hermione was smirking mischievously.

"What's even funnier was Harry's description of the first time someone kissed him. Notice I said when 'someone kissed him,' not his first kiss. See, he didn't kiss her back, and the only thing he had to say about it was that it was, and I quote, 'wet,'" Hermione shot at Harry.

"In my defense can I say that I didn't know she was going to do it?"

"No!" shouted Ron. "You knew full well she liked you. Besides, you were standing under the mistletoe!"

* * *

"GOOD-BYE!" shouted Ron as their carriage carried them past the gates of Hogwarts' grounds. 

"Aren't you going to miss it?" Hermione asked quietly as she stared back up the lawns at the castle.

"Nope!" Ron said as he settled into the warm seat.

"Not at all?"

"Uh-uh."

"But you've spent the last seven years of your life there."

"Why are you so determined to depress me on a glorious day like this?"

Hermione shrugged.

Shaking his head, Ron changed the subject. "So, Harry, when are tryouts?"

"Two days."

"That doesn't give you much time," Ron said.

"I'd just as soon get it over with then let it all drag out."

"Ron, you never said what you were planning on doing after school," Ginny said.

"Well, I was going to get a job at the Ministry but that's kind of out of the question right now. I think I'm going to take time off until this whole You-Know-Who thing gets sorted out."

"For Heavens sake, Ron, say Voldemort. It's not like he's going to come swooping down on you every time you say his name," said Hermione in exasperation. "And you could help sort 'this whole You-Know-Who thing' out if you studied with me to be an auror. You did take all the necessary classes so it would be a shame to waste it all."

"Maybe," said Ron placidly. Harry got the feeling Ron had said that more to shut Hermione up than because he actually agreed.

"Well, I don't know about you all but I have had enough of the Dark Arts to last me more than a lifetime," said Harry. "I personally think, for me, that Quidditch is the only way to go."

"It is the only way to go, Harry," said Ginny loudly. "Snape kicked you out of his Potions class, remember."

The carriage came to a stop at the station. As they stepped out into the brilliant sunshine, Harry said, "Well there you go. I couldn't be an auror if I wanted to."

Ron led the way to the train where they hoped to be one of the first on board. They wanted to get an empty compartment before all the other ones had been taken. No such luck. The train was already full of rambunctious kids. Luckily, they found an empty compartment near the back and were able to keep any other nosey students out.

As the train lurched into motion, Ginny asked quietly, "Hermione, where are you staying since…you know?"

"With you," she said abruptly. "At least till your brother and I leave for training."

Ron shot her a double take. "Training? For what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Auror training, Ron," she said exasperatedly.

Ron shook his head at Harry.

As the train sped through the countryside, Harry and his friends changed out of their robes and back into Muggle clothes. Soon after the lady with the lunch trolley came by, Ginny had fallen asleep, Ron sat staring out the window, Hermione read the latest issue of the Daily Prophet, and Harry polished his Firebolt. He wondered silently when Ron planned on popping the question to Hermione. As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long.

As two o'clock neared, Ron became a lot more fidgety. Finally, he heaved a great sigh and broke the silence.

"Mione, can I ask you something?"

Harry looked up quickly at Ron before shaking Ginny awake. "Ginny and I are going for a walk," he said as they both left the compartment, Ginny with a very confused look on her face. Harry closed the door behind him and made sure Ron saw him heading away before he turned back around and pressed his ear against the wall. From where he stood, he could see Ron and Hermione inside, but not be seen himself.

"You're going to want to hear this, too," he told Ginny quietly.

Hermione followed the pair with her eyes. "Sure," she answered, returning to her reading.

Ron scooted closer to her and took the newspaper from her hands. Intrigued, Hermione looked at him. Anything that caused Ron to come between her and her reading must have been important.

Harry caught Ginny's eye and smiled knowingly as Ron continued. "You know I love you, right?" he said.

Ginny's eyes went round as Galleons and she reached for Harry's hand.

Hermione nodded, clearly thinking Ron had lost his mind.

"And you know I'd do anything for you?"

Again, Hermione nodded. Ron fumbled with something small in his hand and insanely huge grins played across Harry and Ginny's faces.

Ron took one last deep breath and plunged ahead. "Then will you—," he stopped. Looking away he said, "Never mind. It's stupid."

Harry opened his mouth to tell Ron not to be a git and finish what he started, but stopped as Ron turned back around to face Hermione. "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?" he blurted.

Hermione appeared taken aback and Harry feared she would turn Ron down. She put a hand over her mouth and breathed, "What?"

"Will you marry me?" Ron asked more slowly this time, sliding a plain ring onto her finger.

She nodded after another moment and threw her arms around Ron's neck. Ginny smirked and loudly said, "It took you two long enough!"

Hermione pulled away from Ron and threw open the door to find the two, ears still pressed against the wall before shooting back, "Now that's not quite fair considering it took Harry six years to ask you out too. We all knew it would happen someday, we just didn't know when."

Harry shrugged in defeat.

The rest of the train ride home was very pleasurable indeed. Hermione and Ron managed to make it the whole way home without bickering about a single thing and with no Malfoy to torment them anymore, the trip turned out to be very pleasurable.

Soon, the train was pulling into Kings Cross Station. Harry spotted Bill's flaming red hair and he vaguely wondered how he would react to Ron's news.

"Bill!" Ginny squealed as she sprinted from the train and threw her arms around her oldest brother.

"Well? How was it?" Bill asked as the rest of the group caught up to Ginny.

"I don't even know where to begin," said Ron exasperatedly.

The stories from the year carried them home and part of the way through dinner at a cheap hamburger restaurant. Hermione finished her food a while before everyone else and sat with her chin in her hand, gazing out the window. Bill looked up at her to ask her what was wrong, but he stopped mid-sentence when he caught sight of her hand.

"Is that a new ring?" he asked, reaching across the table to take her hand.

Hermione nodded.

"And who gave it to you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Ron."

Harry found it more entertaining to watch Ron instead of Hermione and Bill. Ron first went pale as a sheet of newsprint before heading swiftly for a deep shade of magenta.

"And what was the occasion?" he asked. Harry was surprised at the oily tone his voice took. Even more surprising was that Hermione still answered truthfully.

"We're going to be married!" she said excitedly. Ron sank so low in his chair that you could barely see the tips of his flaming hair.

"Oh, are you?" said Bill in mock excitement.

Hermione nodded.

Bill glanced at Ron and back to Hermione. "When?"

"When what?"

"When did it happen? When are you planning on going through with it?"

Ron sat up and answered before Hermione. "Today and not for a while."

"Huh?"

"I did it today on the train home and I don't plan on marrying her for a while. I want to wait till things cool down with…_him_…before I do anything," Ron said quickly.

"How wonderful!" Harry noticed the fake enthusiasm again. "We'll talk about this at home, you two."

Back at the Burrow, Harry and Ginny both went to their rooms to unpack. Harry noticed that Hermione and Ron both tried to escape also, but Bill called them into the kitchen to have their discussion before they even made it to the stairs. Half an hour later, both Harry and Ginny were back downstairs in the living room while everyone else sat in the kitchen.

"I knew they'd have a time getting this past Bill," Ginny said solemnly after another half hour of listening to Bill explain to Ron and Hermione why they were to young to be married.

"I wondered how he was going to do it," admitted Harry.

"What's even funnier is that Bill will let them do it in the end."

Harry looked at her questioningly.

"He knows they love each other and all that. This is just for show. He can't be too willing to let them go or he looks like a bad guardian. But you just wait and see if it doesn't turn out like I said."

Harry shrugged. "And that's why I keep you around. You point out the obvious for me."

Ginny looked at him incredulously. "You keep me around? Sweetie, this is my house! I keep _you_ around," she joked.

"Either way!"

* * *

After much arguing and pleading, Hermione and Ron were given Bill's blessing, just as Ginny predicted. To Harry's surprise, Ron followed through on his promise to wait until Voldemort had been taken care of and set a date for the wedding some three years later. Ron, like Harry assumed that things were coming to a head at the moment and in no time the final battle for good and evil would take place. Not that Harry was at all pleased with this idea. 

However, Harry was no stranger to good news. Just two days after his last day of school, tryouts for Puddlemere United took place. Harry felt on the whole that he could have done a bit better, but as Oliver Wood was kind enough to point out, Harry could be no worse than the Seeker on the team now. After three days of waiting, Harry finally got the owl that told him he had been accepted as Puddlemere United's new Seeker, a cause for much celebration in the Weasley household. His actual games wouldn't start till the end of August, when he would be required to move out of the Burrow and into a rather large flat closer to the team's headquarters.

N.E.W.T.s came shortly after the news of Harry's acceptance, and Harry found he could not complain with the results. He'd long since given up entertaining the idea of going on to become an auror, but Ron and Hermione on the other hand had not. They both received enough N.E.W.T.s to go on to start their training, which they did. The preliminary preparation was rushed a bit, given the circumstances, and within the month they were being asked to study abroad.

Only Ginny would have remained at home during the end of the summer holidays. However, because she was only sixteen, Bill was able to convince the Order and his superiors at Gringotts to allow him to stay with her until she returned to Hogwarts in September.

With a heavy heart, Harry entered Ron and Hermione's final week at the Burrow. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were spending what would turn out to be, according to the weatherman, the last day of sunshine that week on their broomsticks, zooming around the Weasley's pitch. Fresh air and Quidditch had always had an exhausting effect on Harry, so it didn't surprise him in the least when he felt ready to turn in around nine. With a murmured apology, Harry left the living room for the comfort of his own bed.

Harry awoke early the next morning (he supposed it was drawing close to six) from a very strange dream. It had taken place back in the Department of Mysteries, and he'd been watching his friends being tortured using various weapons. He supposed that had to be the weapon that Dumbledore had been so keen to avoid. But that couldn't be right. Hadn't he said it had to do with his heart?

In one swift movement, Harry rose from his bed. He was tired of never knowing, of being left in the dark and always having to guess at things. Enough was enough. If no one was going to tell him of their own free will, he would make them do it. He dressed quickly and tiptoed down the stairs, leaving a note on the kitchen table telling his friends he'd gone to Grimmauld Place and would be back soon. With a faint pop, he Dissapparated from the room.

Harry's heart beat a steady drum roll against his chest as he let himself into the decaying house. This was the first time he'd returned here since his godfather's death. In the past he'd avoided the place like the plague. Now, it seemed a bit surreal to be back of his own accord.

He crept silently past the old picture of Sirius' mother and headed down to the kitchen. He knew someone was usually down there no matter what time of the day or night. Even if he found the room empty, it wouldn't be too long before someone came down to join him.

As he expected, he heard voices coming through the closed door. Hesitating for only a moment, he knocked and stepped in.

"Umm…Hi," he said a bit lamely as Tonks, Lupin, and Snape all stopped talking and turned to face him.

"Hello, Harry," said Lupin cheerily. "And what brings you here this time of the morning?" He stopped and looked at Harry questioningly. "You didn't have another dream, did you?"

"No, I didn't." The lines on Lupin's face softened ever so slightly. "Well, actually, I did, but it wasn't one of my visions. I _think_ it was just a dream, but I need to be absolutely certain." He paused and took a breath, "And I have some questions I want to ask you."

"As fascinating as Potter's story is sure to be, I have business I need to take care of," Snape said as he rose from the table. "Good day to you." With that, he swept from the room.

Harry frowned after his old professor and turned to the other two in the room. Tonks rose apologetically from her seat and said, "I _am_ sorry, Harry, but I have to get to bed. Another long night."

"Where were you?" Harry asked. He knew that Tonks was an auror, but he also knew that the Ministry building was under the control of Voldemort's Death Eaters. He was very curious to know where the Ministry of Magic was operating from, since Hermione and Ron weren't really aurors yet and therefore were not permitted to know either.

"Ahhh, it wouldn't be a secret if you were meant to know, now would it?" she said wisely as she left the room.

"See, that's what I came to talk to you about. Everyone treating me like I can't know things for my own good."

"Sit down, Harry," Lupin said in an almost fatherly manner. He looked at the cup of tea sitting in front of him and offered Harry a glass, which he refused. "Maybe it would be best if you started from the beginning. Tell me about this dream."

For the next ten minutes, Harry related every detail he could remember of the dream. When he finished, Lupin just sat there, much to Harry's dismay.

"What do you think it means?" he asked finally, when it became clear Lupin wasn't going to answer.

"Harry," Lupin said after a moment, "maybe its time that I did some explaining."

Harry settled himself back in his chair as if preparing to listen to a good bedtime story. Lupin chuckled a bit and muttered something about Harry being so much like his father. The humorous mood quickly left the room, though, as Lupin began to speak.

"I suppose you want to know what this weapon is." Harry nodded. "The first thing that you must know is that Dumbledore kept the whole truth from you for a good reason. He feared your reaction, and he still does. But now I see no choice but to tell you. Rather, I see no reason not to tell you. Voldemort knows about it, so even if he were still capable of invading your mind, it wouldn't be anything new to him. Anyway, it seems that your being left in the dark has resulted in nothing but bad things.

"What we were trying to keep from Voldemort was who you were close to, who you cared deeply about, because we feared he might use that against you." Harry sat up straighter. "Anyone you love or who loves you is in danger. Now, don't think we all don't know that. It's something we've had to deal with since the first day we met you. What we're more afraid of is that if something should happen to any of us you'd come after us.

"When you mastered Occlumency last year, you made things a bit more difficult for Voldemort. He could no longer show you fake images of those you loved, as he did with Sirius. I only hope that even if he had, you would not have fallen for it again. Now, he had to actually go after the person in order for you to see. I don't understand why you can still see anything but as it's helped us in the past, I'm not going to complain.

"Well, now you know what this weapon is, Harry. It's not some curse or instrument of torture. In fact, it's something Voldemort could never hope to understand because he's never been exposed to it, not that he won't try his hardest. It's love that can be used against you."

Harry sat in stunned silence for a while. "So, anyone I care about isn't safe? Voldemort could go after them so I'll come to him?"

"I'm afraid so. But the thing is, you must not go, no matter what."

"How can you say that?" Harry hissed quietly. "How can you tell me to sit back and watch my friends get hurt? Of course, I'd go after them! They'd do the same for me!"

"No, you mustn't. That's just what Voldemort would want. You'd be playing right into his hands."

"Well, what am I supposed to do then?" Harry asked angrily, folding his arms across his chest and avoiding eye contact with Lupin.

"The best thing you could do would be telling the Order. We'd go and get them."

"That's not good enough. They shouldn't be taken at all," Harry snapped.

Lupin sighed. "I'm afraid there's nothing you can do about that, unless you happen to be there at the time. And even Voldemort's not stupid enough to attempt to do that. He's seen the way you get when he messes with your loved ones, and I think you've got him frightened."

"What do you mean?"

"He's finally recognizing you for an equal, not just some little boy. They always said Dumbledore was the only one he ever feared, but I think it is safe to add you to that list now."

The pair sat in silence for a few more minutes, Lupin sipping his tea and watching Harry, who sat idly staring at his hands.

"I'm going to leave," he said finally.

"So soon? I was hoping you'd stay and talk a bit more. It's so dreary around here now that everyone's left," said Lupin.

Harry sat confused for a moment, before realizing that he'd confused his professor. "No," he explained. "I'm leaving the Burrow."

Lupin shook his head. "See, this is exactly what Dumbledore feared."

"But I've got to," Harry argued. "I've got a flat I can stay in once August gets here, and I suppose until then I can rent one."

"Why not stay here, if you must leave the Weasleys?"

"Are you kidding?" Harry asked in disbelief. "I'd lead them right to you all."

"I don't suppose there's any use in attempting to change your mind?"

"None whatsoever. I have to leave them. I can't let Voldemort...No."

"Very well. Perhaps a week alone in a dark apartment will make you come around. You do know this means you'll have to have a secret keeper. We can't have you out there in plain sight of all Voldemort's supporters. That would be too easy for him."

"I want you to do it," said Harry.

"Fine. But what do you plan on telling the Weasleys?"

"I've got it worked out."

Lupin shook his head. "I don't know why you're doing this, but you do know I'll have to tell Professor Dumbledore."

Harry nodded resolutely.

"Then good-bye, Harry. I sure hope you know what you're doing."

* * *

Harry looked around his room on last time. Everything he owned had been hastily packed into his old Hogwarts chest and a few cardboard boxes. He bewitched everything to make it feather light and shrank the boxes down so Hedwig could carry them to a tiny flat he'd rented recently. 

Before Hedwig took off, she gave a low mournful hoot and turned a pleading amber eye to Harry, who shook his head stubbornly. Slowly Hedwig took off and soared out of sight.

With a sigh, Harry threw a last glance at his bare walls, picked up his wand from his bedside table and strode from his room for what he thought would be the last time.

"You have to do it," he whispered to himself. He knew there was not other way. Harry had to separate himself from the Weasleys and he had the perfect way to do it. He'd only have to hurt one person, well two if he counted himself. The only problem was, the person he'd have to upset was the last person in the world he'd want to cause any pain.

As he thought, Harry reached the landing in front of Ginny's door. Shaking, he pushed the door open and found her lying on her bed reading a book. His first thought was that he should join her, but he held himself back.

"Ginny," he said. She looked up from her book and smiled.

"What's up?"

"Ginny," Harry started again. "I don't want to be with you anymore," he said hastily.

"What? Why?" She suddenly stopped. "Harry, I know why you're doing this and you don't have to. We all know the dangers that come with caring about you. That doesn't change anything."

"No. Its not because of Voldemort," he lied hastily. He thought, searching for the thing that would infuriate her most. "I just…I can't be tied down now that I'm out of Hogwarts. I want to be able to have fun. It's nothing against you as a person."

"Harry, stop. You shouldn't joke about things like that." She stood up and faced him, leaning in to kiss his lips. He pulled away.

"This isn't a joke," he said firmly to hid the shakiness in his voice. His eyes stung as he fought back his tears. Harry thought he'd have to deal with tears from her, but he never expected what actually happened. With all the strength Ginny could muster, she slapped Harry hard across the face. Harry's hand flew to his cheek as Ginny pulled her hand back again. She tried to slap him again, but he caught her wrist, and she tore away from him and sat down on her bed, hiding her face. Harry wanted nothing more than to hold her, to take everything back, but he knew he couldn't.

He headed toward the door. "I'm leaving here," he said. With one last glance back at Ginny, who was now sitting motionless on her bed, silent tears streaming down her face, Harry stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. He listened for a moment, expecting to hear her sobbing or storming after him, but he heard nothing.

Harry drew a last shaky breath and Apparated to his new flat, were he collapsed onto a couch. With trembling hands, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down low over his eyes before curling into a ball. Hours later, he finally dropped into a light sleep.

Harry woke late the next morning. He opened his bleary eyes and saw Hedwig sitting happily on her new perch, Harry's things still fastened to her leg. He untied the parcels and threw them atop the small kitchen counter where they skidded to a stop next to a letter. One look told Harry that Ron had already found out about him and Ginny.

To stall a bit, Harry poured himself a glass of milk from the fully stocked fridge. He drained it and poured another glass. Finally, Harry, feeling he'd waited long enough, pulled the envelope toward him and ripped it open.

_Harry,_

_What the hell do you think you're playing at! Why'd you go and lead my sister on like that? Here I am thinking that you two would end up married and all the sudden she's not good enough for the international Quidditch star! I hope you're happy; Ginny won't eat and she won't talk to anyone either. She just sits up in her room staring at the wall. You'd better have gotten all your stuff when you left, 'cause you are not coming back. Maybe Bill should've just left you with the Muggles._

Slowly, Harry crumpled the letter. As he finished the last of his milk, he tossed the paper into the wastebasket. At least he'd accomplished his goal. No one he cared about would ever want to talk to him again after that. But if he'd done what he'd set out to do, why did he feel so horrible?

Harry felt he should be happy that Ginny, Ron, and Bill weren't on Voldemort's hit list anymore. Rather than celebrating, Harry set to unpacking, feeling desperately alone.

"Ready to see if it works, Hedwig?" Harry asked a few hours later as he searched for the remote. Hedwig fluttered over to Harry, who was busy lifting up the couch cushions. She hooted impatiently and dropped the remote painfully on Harry's head.

"Ouch! Thanks, Hedwig," Harry said as the T.V. came to life.

"—ow, back to John at the news desk."

"Thanks, Rich," said a smiley newscaster as he straightened a stack of important looking papers.

"Look! It works!" Harry exclaimed proudly. The old owner of Harry's new flat hadn't been sure that the television would work, but with a little bit of magic and a lot of luck, it was up and running again.

Leaving the news on, Harry started to untape the last box. He straightened back up as a few words caught his attention.

"More killings, this time in Little Hangleton. Eyewitness accounts suggest at least twenty deaths.

Harry lowered himself slowly onto the couch.

"Speculations have been made as to whether or not the killing spree is related to the murders nearly two decades ago. We can only hope the killer or killers can be caught before they cause anymore grief," the reporter finished signing out. Harry noticed in the background an old moldering house. He'd seen it twice before; once in a dream, and once back in his fourth year, the night Voldemort had returned. Apparently Little Hangleton was Voldemort's hometown. But something was nagging at Harry. His scar, it hadn't hurt today.

"Hedwig, maybe its not Voldemort," he voiced. "but, then, maybe it was the Death Eaters.

Harry's brain hurt, it seemed. He desperately wished he had someone to talk to about all this. His first choice was Dumbledore, but he had no idea what the man did over the summer holidays. Harry's natural reaction after that was to turn to the Weasleys, but they weren't speaking to him. Harry ran through he rapidly thinning list of names in his mind and finally settled on Lupin. If anyone knew what was going on, it would be him. In the end, Harry decided he would finish unpacking, and then head over to Grimmauld place in hopes of catching him there.

As he opened the last box, Harry stopped. A framed photo of him and Ginny lay on top of his hastily folded clothes. Slowly, Harry picked it up to examine it more closely. He'd almost forgotten he'd taken that picture. It had been the night of the talent competition at Hogwarts. Harry could see people moving on the stage in the background. Ginny was gathered to Harry's chest, his arms around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulders as he smiled for the camera. Ginny's head was tilted so her cheek rested against his and she too was grinning broadly, Harry's trophy in her hands.

In one swift movement, Harry had tossed the picture into the trashcan. There was a satisfying crunch as the glass shattered in the frame. Rethinking what he'd just done, Harry reached into the trash and pulled the picture back out. Carefully he carried the frame along with the shards of glass into his room. He reached for his wand and muttered "_Reparo_" before placing it one his bedside table.

Suddenly, a feeling of immense fatigue washed over Harry, who fell back on his pillow and was soon asleep.

Harry had a very strange dream that afternoon. He was back at the Burrow, only something was different about it now. It was silent. Harry wandered from room to room, finding each empty.

In Ginny's bedroom, Hermione's cloak lay shredded on the floor. Ginny's sheets were wrinkled and some thrown on the floor and the lamp that had sat next to her bed lay in pieces on the floor.

Harry's dream self dashed from the room and up the many flights of stairs to Ron's room. Outside the door, Harry found Bill. A sharp jolt of panic raced through Harry's body. Bill was dead. Harry knelt beside him and grabbed his wrist just to be sure. He breathed again as he felt a pulse, weak but steady and a pulse just the same. Harry stepped over Bill and into Ron's room where he found much the same situation as in Ginny's room.

Suddenly, Harry became aware that someone else was in the house. As the dream Harry turned slowly around, the real Harry started awake in bed.

Without hesitation, Harry Dissapparated with a tiny pop, reappearing again on the Weasley's front lawn. Shooing away a few stray chickens, he made his way up to their door. He pressed his ear against the wood and heard a clear voice calling, "Ginny, what do you want for lunch?" After a moment, he recognized the voice as Bill's.

Noiselessly, Harry crept to the nearest window and peered through it, taking care to stay out of sight. Bill was ushering Ginny into the kitchen.

Confused, Harry turned from the window and made his solitary way home again. When he entered his tiny apartment about an hour later (he had decided to walk to give himself time to think) and threw his key onto the counter, he had not yet worked out why his friends were still at the Burrow. According to his dream, the house should be empty now, except for Bill's unconscious body. He flopped onto the couch and turned on a pointless Muggle talk show.

A moment later, Hedwig flew with a satisfied hoot through an open window, dropping a note into Harry's lap. He recognized the neat script on the outside as Hermione's

"Why do you keep bringing me letters from them?" he asked his owl as she landed on his shoulder and nipped his ear in an affectionate way.

Shaking his head, he opened the letter and stared at Hermione's tiny cursive.

_Harry,_

_Something's wrong, and don't think that just because you've fooled Ron and Ginny that I'm going to fall for it too. I've known you for seven years and I can tell when you're lying to me. Why did you leave the Burrow? You know you're safe here so that can't be the reason. Ginny assures me the two of you haven't had a row, and Bill says that even if you had, he still wouldn't have kicked you out. Leaving like that with no excuse except to have fun with your Quidditch team does not seem like the Harry I know._

_Ginny mentioned something about suspecting that this all has something to do with Voldemort. She said she thought that might be the reason you were distancing yourself from us. Personally, Harry, I think that ought to offend us more than your lie. How could you think that we care so little about you that at the first sign of danger we would abandon you?_

_As I write this, the thought strikes me that maybe you worry that we care too much for you and that our love for you puts us in danger, so you fear for our safety. This seems a more logical explanation than the one before it. In that case, you need to know that we are aware of what danger we place ourselves in._

_I'm not going to discuss my thoughts about all this with anyone so you don't have to worry about that. I am very aware that if you left here, you must have had a good reason. I've talked with Professor Lupin about it and he says not to worry about you, that you're in good hands, and Dumbledore knows what is going on. In any case, if they are positive you're safe then I can't argue with that, although I won't stop worrying about you until you're back here and Voldemort's gone. I just seriously want you to rethink what you've done to Ginny. She deserves the truth from you. I expect to hear back from you soon._

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

Harry shook his head with a weary smile, and Hedwig took off from her perch on his shoulder and landed on the kitchen counter next to a pad of paper. She hooted excitedly and blinked once with her large amber eyes. Harry rose from the couch and snatched up a quill from his bedroom.

_Hermione,_

_You're right, as usual. I didn't really expect to pull the wool over your eyes; it was more a feeble hope. You're right that I lied to Ginny. The reason I left was not for my own pleasure at all. In fact, that was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. I guess I can tell you why I left. I know if I don't you'll probably spend a few hours researching and you'll figure it out, no problem. I'm just doing this to save you time and energy._

_I talked with Lupin and to make a long story short, I finally found out what the weapon really is that we knew so little about for years. Anyone I care about or who cares about me can be used to lure me to Voldemort, only now he has to use the real people and not some fake vision or something like that._

_Lupin is right when he tells you not to worry about me. I'm some place safe and if Lupin's true to his word, only he and Dumbledore know where I am. I want it to stay that way._

_I know I didn't go about the whole leaving thing in the best possible way but I panicked. One day I'll tell everyone the truth, but I'm going to ask that until then you keep my secret. I want to be the one who tells them, as it's my fault in the first place._

_Now, I'm going to tell you something that is totally off the subject but I need to tell someone now or I'm going to burst. I'm sure you'll tell me to talk to Dumbledore and, rest assured, that's what I plan to do. This afternoon I had a strange dream. My scar didn't hurt so I know it wasn't a vision or anything. You and Ron had just gotten back to the Burrow (judging by the traveling cloak that I saw). I walked around the house and no one was there except Bill, and he was unconcious on the floor outside Ron's room, which was a mess. Ginny's room was also pretty much destroyed, and your cloak was shredded to bits. Then, I felt rather than saw someone in the house, but I woke up._

_I got so worried that I went straight to check on them, but I saw Bill making Ginny lunch. What do you think this all means?_

_Well, I'm off to talk to Dumbledore._

_Harry_

He folded the letter up and tied it to Hedwig's leg. He took her to the window and said, "I'm going to Grimmauld Place so come there with her answer. I want to get it as soon as possible." Harry could have sworn she nodded in reply before soaring away.

* * *

Yes i know that the way that harry broke up with ginny is kinda unrealistic but it is supposed to be like that. thats why it was so easy for hermione to see right through it. also, even tho harry is trying to get away from ginny he still finds it difficult to lie to her so he comes up with something totally out of character. just thought id let u know so u didn't think it was too corney or something like that. 


	16. The Final Battle

**Chapter 15 The Final Battle**

Another night again

Another journey without friends

Another fight to wish away the loneliness I live

Another circus show

Another face that I don't know

Another night of people asking what I have to give

I thought that I would drown

But it okay right now

No one knows the way I feel

The part of me I have to fight

Buried somewhere deep beneath my skin

The emptiness with me has faded

I can see my life has waited

Now I know I'm living for who I am

Who I Am—Smile Empty Soul

Once again, Harry let himself into the silent house of his late godfather. Skirting the troll leg umbrella stand, he made his way down to the basement kitchen expecting to see someone there. Much to his surprise, it was empty. Nothing there hinted that anyone was even in the house. Panicking slightly he raced back up the stairs, calling out names.

"PROFESSOR LUPIN! TONKS! DUMBLEDORE!"

He made such a racket running around the house that the portrait of Sirius' mom awoke.

"FILTH! BESMIRCHING MY HOUSE, TAINTING THE PURENESS OF—"

Harry stopped with his foot on the bottommost stair leading up to the bedrooms and drawing rooms upstairs. He whirled around and screamed as loudly as he could, "SHUT UP!"

The woman stopped screaming. Instead she asked in quite a lost voice, "Who's there?"

Harry didn't answer.

"I know you're there," she bellowed.

He walked to face her and felt his scar burn white-hot. A jolt of panic raced through him.

"Of course, it's that Potter boy they talk so much about. Well, you're out of luck, _dear _boy. There's no one here but me at the moment. They all took off about ten minutes ago."

"What? No one's here? Do you know where they went?" he asked hurriedly.

She looked at him as if he were a mere slug or some other bug that was causing her extreme annoyance. "I am not in charge of that, now am I? Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. FILTH! BRINGING THE STENCH OF MUDBLOODS INTO MY BELOVED HOUSE!" she began shouting again.

Unwilling to listen to her a moment longer, Harry turned on his heel and marched out of the house, slamming the door hard behind him. He was about to Apparate to the Weasley's when he caught sight of Hedwig flying at top speed toward him.

He put out his arm and she landed hard, digging her talons in to him and squawking in an irritated way. She looked harried, some of her feathers sticking up in the wrong direction.

"Calm down," he told her forcefully. Hedwig became silent at once, but she stuck out her leg, showing Harry the letter he'd sent to Hermione. "Why didn't you deliver this?" he asked her suddenly.

"She's not there, is she?" To his surprise, Hedwig shook her snowy head at him. "No one's there?" he asked more to himself than here.

"Find Dumbledore and get him to come help!" he shouted. Hedwig hooted reassuringly and took off into the sunset at top speed again.

Without further ado, Harry Apparated to the Weasley's property.

The lights were on, but Harry noticed no shadows cast onto the lawn. He raced up the steps of their porch stopped at the door, which he noticed was already open.

"_Not a good sign,"_ he thought to himself as he stepped inside.

He raced through the living room, vaulting over the overturned couch. "Please…no…don't let it be true," he muttered to himself.

He skidded to a stop outside his room and threw open the door. The mattress had been ripped of the frame and all of the drawers of his old desk had been ripped out and thrown onto the floor. Slamming the door shut, he took off for Ginny's room. Hermione's shredded cloak and Ginny's bed sheets littered the floor. Something between a scream and a growl escaped from Harry's mouth as he raced up to his best friend's room.

As he stumbled onto the landing outside Ron's room, he caught sight of Bill, mouth slightly open, and a trickle of blood running down his cheek from a cut somewhere near his hairline.

An anger Harry had never felt before burst from inside him. With nothing to vent on, he kicked the wall with all his might. Just as quickly as the anger had come, a new emotion took over. Guilt. Harry hadn't been quick enough to leave, or get to Dumbledore and now he had no clue where anyone was. He knew he would stop at nothing to save his friends, but to do that he'd need to know how to find them. He slid down the same wall he'd kicked moments earlier and hid his face in his hands, blocking everything else out to think.

In the silence, Harry heard a slam downstairs, but it never registered with him. It wasn't till he heard a voice above him ask, "Are you done thinking, Potter, or are you just going to sit there?" that he looked up and realized it must have been the screen door he'd heard.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" he asked quickly.

"I came to get you," he said offering a hand out to Harry and pulling him to his feet.

"Was this Voldemort? Do you know where he's taken them? Is everyone ok?"

"Yes, yes, and yes. Enough with the questions. Be quiet so I can explain this to you. We've got to hurry."

Harry nodded wordlessly to show he understood.

"Alright. I'm not positive about all of this but I think I've got it all right." Malfoy started pacing, running a hand through his silver-blond hair. "Voldemort caused a distraction by attacking some Muggles in Little Whinging and then again in Little Hangleton. I was there when all the Order showed up. I had a suspicious feeling that he was finally going to try and lure you to him, because he'd long since given up torturing Muggles just for fun." He looked at Harry. "I knew this was where you were living in the summer so I came here to warn you. Judging by the state of all this, I think its safe to assume I'm a little late."

"Ok, so now I know why you're here, but where are my friends and how am I going to get them!" he shouted in impatience.

"Calm down. Look, I just need you to trust me, no matter what the Dark Lord says. If there's any hope for the Weasleys and Granger, you cannot let Voldemort plant any doubt in your mind about me. I am as loyal to Dumbledore as it is possible for anyone to be and no matter what anyone says, I am only a spy, not a true Death Eater. Will you trust me?" He looked directly into Harry's eyes.

Harry was convinced more by the fact that Malfoy had said Voldemort's name than anything else and he nodded slowly.

"Alright. We have to Apparate to Hogwarts and then…"

Harry wasn't listening. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Hermione's voice saying in exasperation, "…you can't Apparate or Dissapparate on the grounds…" He grabbed Malfoy's arm. "How do you plan on Apparating to Hogwarts? You can't do that."

"I had hoped you wouldn't know that," said Malfoy truthfully, biting his lip. "In that case, push everything you know about that from your mind, because it is possible, you just have to know how to do it. Tell yourself you can and you'll end up there. I'll meet you in the entrance hall." With a crack, Malfoy was gone.

Confused, yet determined, Harry looked over his shoulder at Bill. There was nothing to be done for him. Feeling a bit odd about leaving his friend lying unconscious on the floor, Harry prepared to Apparate to Hogwarts, something he'd always been told was impossible.

Harry reappeared moments later with a faint pop in the entrance hall of his old school, cringing. Any moment, he expected some curse to knock him back or some other horrible thing he didn't even want to imagine. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes slowly and opened his mouth in awe.

"I did it!" he whispered excitedly to Malfoy, who was standing next to the great oak door a smirk on his face.

"I see that. I told you you could. Don't try to Apparate to anywhere else though, because then it really won't work. Now follow me." With that, he sprinted through the front door, down the stone steps, and into a stone passageway that seemed vaguely familiar to Harry.

"What is this place?" he asked quietly. "Why do I feel like I've been here before?"

"This is where they take the first years every year." He paused a moment and looked at Harry apprehensively. "And this is where my father brought you last year," he muttered.

Harry squinted around him. With a shudder, he pushed away the memories of last summer.

"Come on, we're not there yet," Malfoy said, and he took off again.

"How do you know where all this is?" Harry gasped.

"My dad…was very close…to Voldemort…so I know…the places…where he takes every…one," Malfoy panted as he darted into yet another stone tunnel. Finally, at a fork in the tunnel, he slowed. Putting a finger to his lips, he crouched low and took the way on the left.

Harry expect Malfoy to lead him a long way from the split in the tunnel, but he was surprised when they'd traveled only a few feet in and they took another turn. This time, instead of taking them into a dark, dank, dripping tunnel, they entered a spacious, brightly lit room with many doors leading off of it.

"Why's he made it so easy to find?" Harry asked dubiously.

"Remember, he wants you to find him," answered Malfoy matter-of-factly. "I think it's this one," he continued, heading toward the seventh door from the right. "Let me go in first."

Slowly, Malfoy poked his head in. Then he entered in all the way and beckoned Harry after. As soon as he set foot in the room, Harry knew something was wrong. An odd prickling on the back of his neck gave him the feeling he was being watched and he couldn't see Malfoy anywhere.

With a snap, the door behind him slammed shut. A woman with heavily lidded eyes stepped from the shadows, laughing darkly. "It never fails!" she shrieked. "You Gryffindors—" she started.

"Where are they?" Harry interrupted, desperately aware of the way his voice shook.

"Don't worry. We wouldn't dream of touching them till you joined them." As she talked, Harry noticed more cloaked figures emerging from the corners of the room.

"You let them go!" Harry shouted, discretely reaching into the pocket of his jeans and closing his hand over the handle of his wand. "They've got nothing to do with this!"

She chuckled, a sound that made Harry shudder. "You know, you don't seem to be in the bargaining position." The others were pressing closer.

Thinking quickly, Harry racked his brain for a curse that could stop them all, but nothing came to mind. Well, he figured, taking out a few was better than going down without a fight. With a speed brought about only by being a Seeker, Harry whipped his wand out and pointed it straight at Bellatrix. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" he shouted.

A cruel satisfaction welled up in him as he watched her fall backwards onto the hard stone floor, unable to move. "Hey!" he heard behind him.

He whirled around to find a man bearing down on him, his lips forming the word "_Stupify_!"

So they weren't aiming to kill him. Unwilling to give up just yet, Harry shouted, "_Protego_!" before the man could finish his curse. He too fell backwards, a surprised look on his face.

"Enough of this! _Stupify_!" To his surprise, Harry felt everything going black, and he collapsed where he stood.

Harry woke what felt like hours later as he was dropped roughly onto a hard stone floof. He sat up, gasping for breath as though he'd just come up from spending too much time under water and a sharp pain raced up his arm. He looked around him, squinting in the low light as a doop snapped shut near him. Vaguely, he could make out three shapes in the corner. "Who's there?" he called out, rubbing his arm where it hurt. He felt his own warm, sticky blood ooze beneath his fingers.

"Harry?" he heard a quiet voice answer back. One of the figures started crawling toward him. The other two sat up a bit straighter.

"Ginny!"

"Are you all right?" asked Hermione, hurrying toward him too.

Harry nodded, though he knew they couldn't see him. "Just got a little cut."

"Do you know where we are?" she asked.

"I came in through a tunnel under the school, but I don't know where this is."

"How are we going to get out of here?" Ron asked from the depths of the shadows.

"I don't know," Harry said in defeat. "I was following Malfoy's lead, but I lost him."

Ron got to his feet and turned his back to the group. Harry could tell he struggling to keep his voice even when he finally spoke again. "Wonderful! How many times are you going to screw up this week, Harry, because you're on a roll right now?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice from rising.

Ron whirled around to face him. "Trusting Malfoy? His dad was a Death Eater, and so is he! I can't believe you actually followed him here!"

Harry felt Hermione stand up beside him. "Ron, this is _not_ Harry's fault. We all trusted Malfoy, even me!"

"Malfoy's not a Death Eater," Harry said. "Listen, you weren't there…he's different now—"

"Guys, stop!" shouted Ginny. "If we're going to get out, we can't keep fighting like this!"

Ron rounded on his sister. "I can't believe you're standing up for him! After what he said—"

Harry didn't hear the rest of the sentence. He let out a sharp gasp as a pain shot along his scar. At the same time, a totally unrelated feeling of excitement drowned his own sense of fear. He pulled Hermione down so he could whisper through clenched teeth, "He's here!" Ron and Ginny continued arguing.

Harry heard a high-pitched laugh near the outline of the door and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "Fighting amongst yourselves. That makes my job all the more easy!"

Getting to his feet and drawing himself up to his full height, Harry looked into the red eyes that stared hungrily back at him through the dim light. "Let them go!" he said forcefully. "You've got what you wanted."

Voldemort merely laughed. Then, snapping his fingers so that ropes appeared out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry and his friends, he said, "Surely you know better by now! Why would I let them go when they would alert that meddling excuse for a wizard, Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore's more of a wizard than you'll ever be!" Harry shouted back.

Voldemort chuckled again. "I suppose this is a small price to pay," he said quietly. Then more loudly he continued, "By now you must have noticed my latest discovery. Ingenious, no?"

Harry remained silent.

"No, I didn't really expect you to understand. Your arm?"

Again Harry held his tongue, despite the growing urge to scream.

Voldemort glared at for a moment, but when Harry didn't answer, a few sparks spouted from his wand making Harry flinch and he burst out, "Don't tempt me, boy!" Regaining his calm, he continued, "With a little experimenting, I've finally come up with a plan to rid myself of you once and for all. Your blood, mixed into a potion made especially for this occasion will give me your powers, in essence, all I need to finally gain immortality." He smiled cruelly back at them.

Harry heard Hermione gasp beside him and he felt the eyes of the others on him.

Voldemort laughed his evil laugh and went on. "I guess I should really thank you for getting away last year. If you hadn't, I never would have discovered this.

"In fact, its ironic that the last two times you've been lucky enough to join me, it's been thanks to one of the two Malfoy's in my service. Although, I don't understand how even you would believe that Draco hadn't aligned himself with me. Honestly, a spy for Dumbledore…" He laughed again. "Your dear Malfoy has always been loyal to me."

Harry couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't keep looking into the red eyes before him. He stared at the floor, thinking of something to buy him more time. As he did so, something surfaced in the back of his mind. "Don't believe him, no matter what…" After all, Voldemort had been known to stray from the truth before.

"You liar," Harry finally hissed. Voldemort fixed his stare again on Harry.

"What?" Voldemort spat, pointing his wand at Harry's heart.

"LIAR!" Harry shouted defiantly. He noticed Voldemort step back a bit at the sound of his voice.

"_CRUCIO_!"

Harry's scar exploded with pain and every bit of his body felt like thousands of tiny needles were being stabbed into him, but he was determined to remain quiet. He closed his eyes and bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. Soon the pain reached a pitch Harry had never felt before and it was all he could do to remain standing. A moment later it all vanished and his vision began to clear again.

"Nice people are so easy to manipulate," Voldemort mused. "No, Malfoy is not loyal to me, and I doubt he ever was, but did you think I was unaware of this? I was merely using it to my advantage." He fell silent. Harry found he liked the silence even less than all the talk.

Finally, Voldemort smirked. "I suppose it makes no difference. The potion will have killed you by sunrise anyway." He headed for the door and stopped before leaving. "Pleasant dreams," he said. With a snap, he shut the door behind him. They could hear him cackling for another minute before they were left in silence.

"Harry?" Ginny asked quietly. He didn't answer.

Hours passed, but Harry and his friends heard nothing. Eventually, they worked their way back to a corner and sat dejectedly in a group on the dirty stone.

"What's that?" Hermione asked as Harry's head snapped up. Apparently, she'd heard the footsteps too.

The door opened and a tall figure entered.

"Who's there?" Ron called out.

"Quiet! Do you want them to know I'm here?"

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked through the dark in a stage whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting you out," he answered, untying Harry first and moving on to Ron.

"He knows," Harry stated as he fumbled with the knot binding Ginny's hands.

"I know. How are you feeling?" he asked, turning to Harry.

"Fine," he answered shortly. In truth he was feeling slightly shaky and sick, but he had more important things to worry about.

"I got the people guarding you all to go for a minute. I'll take you out the way we came in," said Malfoy, leading the way to the door.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look as they followed Draco out into the room with all the doors. Clearly Ron was still dubious about trusting Malfoy, even after he'd heard the truth about him.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione entered into the tunnel under Hogwarts. A minute later Malfoy caught up to them saying, "You need to get out. Head for the entrance hall and Apparate to Grimmauld Place."

"Why aren't you coming?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"I can't come with you! Voldemort knows about me, he'll find me…Listen, don't worry. Go, now, before he finds out you all are gone," said Malfoy, ushering them past the underground lake. "And, Harry, talk to Dumbledore before sunrise."

"Draco," said Ginny, brow furrowed, "come with us, we'll hide you…"

"Go!"

Harry turned away, grabbing Ginny and Hermione and pulling them with him. He had almost reached the exit when his scar seared again. He stumbled and fell to his knees, clutching his forehead in his hands.

After a moment, Harry looked up to find Voldemort standing over him. Bending down, Voldemort grabbed Harry's arm in a vice-like grip and yanked him from the ground.

"I'm tired of you and your little friends getting in the way," he hissed, shaking Harry so that his glasses nearly slipped off his nose. "Trust me, that won't happen again."

Voldemort pointed his wand directly at Malfoy who froze. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

Slowly, Malfoy fell backwards, eyes wide and staring. Ginny dropped to her knees beside him, shaking him as though she could wake him.

Wandless, Harry resorted to a sort of fighting that he decided he would have to thank Dudley for later. Drawing his fist back, he threw his whole weight into the punch, connecting with Voldemort's jaw. The force carried them, tumbling, down to the bank of the lake.

Harry watched as Voldemort's wand flew from his hand and Ron took off after it. Unfortunately, when they came to a stop, Harry was pinned beneath Voldemort who proceeded to wrap his long-fingered hands around Harry's neck.

"Hurry," he gasped at Ron who was now sliding down after them.

"_Stupefy_," Ron finally bellowed.

Voldemort simply raised a hand and the curse rebounded off him and knocked Ron to the ground, unconscious. This time, Hermione sprinted to the wand while Ginny ran to Harry's aid.Shenever made it to him.

Harry heard a shout, suddenly Voldemort was off him and he could breath again. As he scrambled away, he saw Dumbledore, wand raised, staring down his crooked nose at Voldemort.

"Ginny, Hermione, get out now," he said forcefully, his voice strong and steady. Harry knew that if he'd walked in on this sight, he wouldn't have been so calm.

"You can't kill me, Dumbledore!" shouted Voldemort, advancing.

"You're very right, Tom," said Dumbledore, heading for Harry. "Unfortunately, the pleasure does not lie with me.

Voldemort shot a glance at Harry who still sat on the ground, unable to stand because his legs shook too much. He hesitated a moment then took off for the room of doors, snatching up wand on the way.

"You let him go!" Harry cried from his knees.

Dumbledore shook his head and crouched beside Harry. "You know what you have to do, Harry," he said.

"No, I can't fight him! He's too strong," Harry argued, looking directly into Dumbledore's blue eyes, which were devoid of whatever twinkle they once held.

Resting a hand on Harry's shoulder, he said, "You must. I can't do this for you. Take my wand…" he said handing over his wand.

He then lifted Harry to his feet and whispered, "Go now, before he gets any further."

As soon as Dumbledore let go of him, Harry's knees buckled and he fell onto his old headmaster. "I can't fight him," Harry repeated.

"Harry, you can't be afraid—"

"No, look…" and Harry stuck out his arm to show the long gash. "He's made a potion. It's taking my powers and he said at sunrise I'll die," he blurted.

Dumbledore glanced outside. The sun must have been rising because the deep blue night sky was shot with gold. Snatching his wand from Harry's grasp, he dragged it across Harry's palm and then his own.

"Ow! Hey!" he cried as he watched his hand bleed. Dumbledore paid no attention to him except to grab Harry's bloody hand. He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath.

Immediately, Harry felt his strength return. He looked up to smile at Dumbledore to find the old man lying down on the pebbles, a vague smile on his face.

His heart sinking, Harry asked, "What did you do?"

As calm as could be, Dumbledore answered, "I switched places with you. You can go now."

"No," Harry shouted, trying to pull his headmaster up. "Undo it."

Dumbledore opened one tired eye and said, "No, I rather like it this way. I've spent too much time here anyway. I daresay the world is tired of me by now." For a moment the familiar twinkle returned and a smile lit his wrinkled his features. "Remember, death is but the next great adventure, and I should very much like a new adventure. It's been a while since I've had a good one."

Harry felt hot tears sting the corners of his eyes and spill over onto his cheeks. "No," he whispered. "Get up…"

"Go, Harry, or I'm afraid I'll have to give you a detention," he joked.

Suddenly, a ray of golden light fell across Dumbledore's face. Harry looked at the sky and saw the sun rising over the horizon. When he turned his attention downward again, Dumbledore lay there, eyes closed, a benign smile on his face.

Seizing Dumbledore's wand, Harry took off after Voldemort, anger coursing through him. He stopped at the sound of Ginny's voice though.

"Harry, where are you going?"

Harry whirled around. Ginny and Hermione had returned and were now heading toward him. Before the reached him, Ron moaned and sat straight up.

"Ron!" cried Hermione, rushing to his side.

"Ginny, he's gone!" whispered Harry, when she finally walked to him.

"Who, Voldemort?"

"No, Dumble—"

"Finally, the meddlesome old fool's gone!" exulted Voldemort, striding toward them. He stopped, staring at Harry in disbelief.

"Why are you still here?"

Harry opened his mouth, but he couldn't think of anything to say, so he closed it again. Instead he raised Dumbledore's wand.

Voldemort laughed. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. _Expelliarmus_!"

"_Protego_!" Harry shouted. The wand flew to his fingertips, but he did not let go. Instead, Voldemort's wand flew from his hand and Harry snatched it out of the air. He felt very aware of his friends staring at him.

Voldemort's eyes widened in surprise, but other than that he seemed unfazed. Attempting a different track, he said, "I saw the scar, Harry. You tried to take the easy way out, didn't you?" He smirked as Harry yelled, "Shut up!" and Hermione asked what he was talking about.

"What's this?" Voldemort continued in mock surprise. "They don't know, do they? He turned to Hermione and Ron. "Your brave hero, your 'Boy Who Lived,' tried to kill himself. So much for saving everyone, huh!" He called to Harry.

Harry remained silent, ignoring Hermione's gasp and Ron's questions. Finally he shouted, "You're not controlling my life anymore!"

"You can't kill me," Voldemort said, though Harry distinctly saw fear in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Harry looked directly at Voldemort. "_Avada Kedavra_!" he screamed.

Voldemort's mouth dropped open as a jet of green light collided with him. Harry watched in slow motion as he fell over motionless.

He didn't move right away. In fact, he wasn't aware of anything until he felt Ginny tugging his arm. "Are you ok?" she asked quietly.

He just ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the black wand he'd caught from Voldemort. In a fit of rage, he brought it down hard over his knee so that it snapped in half and hurled it into the lake.

"Is he really gone?" asked Hermione quietly as she helped Ron up.

"Yeah," said Harry stunned.

"We need to get someone in here," said Ron, staring from Dumbledore to Voldemort.

Harry felt like he was in a dream. In fact, he was in such a surreal state that he would have sworn he saw Malfoy's body move as they dashed out.

"Wait!" called a voice from behind.

Harry whirled around, wand raised. Apparently, he hadn't been dreaming when he'd seen Malfoy move. He was actually pushing himself to his feet.

"But you were dead!" Ron shouted, pointing, while Harry rushed to help.

"I know that! But that doesn't tell me why I'm here!"

"Whoa," said Ginny quietly.

Harry and the others spent the day and night in the castle. Madam Pomfrey insisted on dishing out sleeping potions, but Harry didn't drink his. Instead, he lay in his bed near the window and stared at the moon.

The next morning, Harry rose before everyone else. Not wanting anyone to wake up and try to talk to him, he crept past them and was soon home. After all, he'd see everyone at the funeral tomorrow.

Harry arrived late and remained near the back of the large crowd of people. Mostly he watched the reactions of the people around him and the rain clouds moving in. Why did it always rain at funerals? When the ceremony finished, he was one of the first to leave, but instead of going straight home, he wandered the streets of Godric's Hollow.

When the rain finally started to pour down, he thought about heading to the Three Broomsticks for a drink, but he changed his mind quickly. Deciding in an instant, he made sure he couldn't be seen before Dissapparating with a pop.

Harry reappeared again outside the Weasley's house. Ginny sat alone on the front porch braiding her freshly washed hair and Ron, Hermione, and Bill were inside, their voices wafting through an open window.

Harry sat for another few minutes and only when Ginny started to head inside did he speak up.

"Ginny, wait."

She turned around as if she'd known he'd been there all along and crossed her arms, glaring at him. "What?" she asked crossly.

Harry shook his sodden bangs out of his eyes and said, "I need to explain something to you." He paused, unsure of how to begin. "I lied to you. I never really wanted to leave you, but I was worried."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you have to be worried about? It's not like—"

Harry interrupted her. "You were right when you said that I was afraid Voldemort would come after you."

"You didn't have to worry about us. We can take care of ourselves."

"Can you blame me?"

Ginny cocked her head and frowned.

"But this isn't the point. What I really came to say is that I'm sorry." He laughed a tired laugh. "Even Voldemort saw it before I did," he muttered to himself.

"What'd he see?" Ginny asked.

Harry flushed. He hadn't meant to speak aloud. Thinking about whether he wanted to plunge ahead, he put a hand to his forehead. Throwing caution to the wind, he said, "I love you. Voldemort wouldn't have taken you if I didn't." He sighed, feeling a hundred pounds lighter. "There, I said it. You can laugh now."

But Ginny wasn't laughing. She just stood there, a hand over her mouth. To fill the awkward silence, Harry asked, "So, will you take me back?"

Instead of relieving the tension, the question only made the silence, if possible, louder.

"I'm going to need time to think about that, Harry," she said, lowering her hand.

"I thought so," Harry mumbled turning to leave. "Could you just tell Ron to write me then?"

"I'm done thinking," Ginny said, stepping off the porch into the rain.

Slowly, Harry turned back around. "And…?"

"Well, listen to this and tell me if it makes sense. You lied to me. You broke up with me, but you claim it was because you loved me. You then proceeded to drag me through the pits of Hell, and now you want me back. Am I right so far?"

"Well, when you put it like that…" He shook his head. "I'll just go."

"Harry James Potter, I am not finished."

He whirled around to face her. "What do you want!" he practically shouted.

"I want you to come inside and dry off. Then you'll have a cup of tea and some peanut butter and jelly with me while we talk about you moving back in."

"Is that a yes then?" Harry asked, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.

She folded her arms sternly. "It is if you promise not to lie to me again."

He dashed up the front steps and stood dripping on the porch. "You have no idea how boring it is to live by yourself," Harry said as he stepped inside, feeling slightly guilty about dripping on the Weasley's floor.

"It's been a lot quieter here, too."

"Hi, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, entering the room from the kitchen. "Why are you all wet?"

He shrugged.

"Don't just stand there. Go dry off."

As Harry mounted the stairs, he heard Hermione distinctly ask, "So did you take him back?" He froze.

"Ginny laughed. "'Course. What can I say? I'm forgiving! Do we have any peanut butter and jelly?"

"Did he say the 'L' word?" Hermione pressed.

"I think I'll go make those sandwiches."

"That's a yes if I ever heard one!"

As Harry toweled off, Ginny came upstairs with a change of dry clothes. "'Mione went to your apartment to get them."

"How'd she find it?" Harry asked through the door.

"Lupin told her today at the funeral."

Suddenly, an indistinct shouting reached Harry's ears. "What'd they say?" he asked Ginny.

"'Mione says hurry up, someone's here for you."

He emerged a minute later, his hair still damp, and headed downstairs, Ginny close behind. As he entered into the living room he gasped and froze. Ginny leaned around to see, then clutched Harry's arm painfully hard.

There, sitting on the couch as calm as if this sort of thing happened everyday sat Ron and Hermione with two people Harry knew to be dead.


	17. Dead Man Walking

UnOriginal- thanks for the advice. the anonymous review thingy is now on, or however u wanna say it. thanks for reading this!

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**Chapter 16 Dead Man Walking**

The lights are out in the city tonight

So close your eyes

Gaze up at the heavens

And see if you can point me out

If I could have one wish tonight

I'd wish upon a satellite

To bring me back to you

Bring me back to you

We spend our whole lives searching for

All the things we thing we want

Never really knowing what we have

The Night that the Lights Went Out in NYC—The Ataris

The two on the couch stood and smiled. They both beckoned for Harry, who still stood glued in his place.

"Mom? Dad?"

They nodded. Harry didn't understand. His parents had been dead for nearly seventeen years, yet here they stood, his mother's green eyes full of tears and his father's untidy black hair standing up messily in the back.

"This isn't happening," he said, turning to Ginny. "I'm dreaming!" he laughed. To prove it, he slapped himself hard on the cheek. "Ouch!"

"This isn't a dream, Harry," said James calmly, though he looked as if he were holding in a fit of laughter.

"Yes it is. See, I've had it before. We'll sit down and have a talk but then I'll wake up. You guys are dead!"

"That's funny," Harry's father said, turning to his wife. "I didn't think dead people could talk."

Harry looked to Hermione who beamed at him and nodded. All at once, Harry ran to his parents who both embraced him.

"Why are you…? How did you…?" He couldn't continue.

"I was hoping you'd explain that," sniffed Lily, sitting back down. "Tell us everything."

For the next quarter of an hour, Harry retold his story to his parents. James looked as if none of this was new to him, which Harry found slightly unusual. After all, the man had been dead for seventeen years.

"My guess is that when Voldemort died, something, a spell maybe, backfired in his wand," said Lily. "Where is it?"

"At the bottom of a lake. I snapped it."

"That's what did it, I'll bet," piped in Hermione.

"You're probably right," said James thoughtfully. "Well, now that you've explained why Lily's back, I think I have some explaining to do." He paused. "I was never dead, Harry. In fact, you've known me since your third year."

Harry squinted at him. He didn't remember ever seeing his dad for real that year. He'd thought he'd seen him, but it had turned out to only be Harry seeing himself.

"How?" he asked.

"Remus and I switched places years back. Only Lily knew about it. Voldemort killed Remus, not me," said James heavily. "If I'm not mistaken, the real Lupin is talking with the Order right now."

"If you weren't dead, why didn't you tell me? Why'd you leave me with the Dursley's for sixteen years?" Harry shouted.

"I was a werewolf, Harry! It was too dangerous. And like you would have believed it if some strange man came up to you and said, 'Hey, Harry, I'm your dad in his best friends body!'"

"No, I wouldn't have believed you. But I've been…Sixteen years!" he said weakly.

James raised his hands in defeat. "I'm sorry. Do you think it was easy watching someone else raise my son?"

"Well, you're back now, and that's all that matters," said Ginny from across the room.

Lily beamed at her. "Harry, you haven't introduced me to your friends."

"I've been a bit distracted. You know, I just found out I've got parents." He pointed to Ginny. "That's Ginny Weasley."

"Bloody hell, Harry! Your mum looks just like her!" cried Ron.

"And that's Ron," said Harry. "He's her brother."

"And I'm Hermione," chimed Hermione.

Harry smiled. "Those two are engaged."

"When's the big day?" James asked.

"Umm…" said Ron, blushing, "three years from now."

"Why so long?" asked Lily.

"I promised Bill."

"Bill?"

"My brother. He let a few minutes before you got here. You can meet him later."

"So they're engaged. Are you engaged to anyone, Harry?" asked Lily slyly.

Harry shook his head slowly.

"Got a girlfriend?"

* * *

this chapter was reall hard to write. this is actually the last chapter but dont go anywhere! theres more back story and what not coming up. dont ask questions, just nod and smile and keep reading.


	18. Dear Reader

Ok, so this is a letter harry wrote to the readers. thus the "dear reader" salutation. yeah dont know why i decided to write this lil note here but i did.

* * *

Dear Reader,

So, you've made it through seven years of my life. Congratulations! I must say, J.K. Rowling andMs. Loesche (who was asked to write the last book when the magnificent Rowling fell ill) did a wonderful job documenting it correctly.

Enough with the fancy talk. Ms. Loesche asked (actually it was more of a "you will or die" sort of thing) me to give a kind of overview about my thoughts and all that. As if you aren't tired or reading by now. Let me apologize now, because this is going to take a while.

I don't remember much before Hogwarts, and let's face it, who'd want to. Mostly, the first ten years of my life consisted of my daily beating from Dudley, school, and cleaning. At least twice a day I heard, "Don't ask questions." But that's about it.

My first year at Hogwarts had to have been the best year of my life, well, most of it. I met my two best friends and my future wife that year. It actually took a while before we included Hermione, but once we did, homework sure got easier.

That year, I also met Voldemort for the first time, well, second, actually. I don't like to talk about that much, so we'll just keep right on moving.

Something needs to be said about Quidditch. Here goes: Best game in the world! Nothing beats zooming around one hundred feet in the air, although Mione may tell you a good book always wins. Unfortunately, I ended up in the hospital wing for a week, so I couldn't play the final. Poor Oliver didn't have a reserve. He still refuses to talk about that year.

On to second year. Well, I spent some of the summer at the Weasleys'. That was fun. Regrettably, that year we had a complete git for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Now, who really lets a cage of Cornish pixies loose in a class without telling the students how to stop them, then runs away!

Ginny's diary turned out to have a sixteen-year-old Voldemort in it. As if that wasn't enough, he'd been possessing her and using her to attack Muggle-borns. Hermione was one of the students turned to stone but somehow she was able to figure out that it was a basilisk petrifying everyone.

Most of the school thought I was the heir of Slytherin though. I don't think people have ever feared me that much. Once they saw Mione had been attacked, they lightened up a bit.

Yet again, I didn't get to play for the Quidditch Cup, but that was because it was cancelled. This time someone had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. Ron took it pretty hard when he found out it was Ginny. Ron, Lockhart, and I went after her, but our own teacher tried to erase our memories. When the wand backfired, he caused a cave in and lost his own memory, so I went on alone. I found Ginny, fought a basilisk, and got rid of the Voldemort inside his diary for good.

I finally admitted to Dumbledore that the Sorting Hat had said I'd do well in Slytherin and he proved to me I was a true Gryffindor. As an added treat, exams were cancelled that year and we won the House Cup again.

Now, I need to mention a certain elf that tried to save my life that year. Dobby, never try to save me again. I went weeks without word from my friends, slammed into Platform 9 ¾ when you closed it, flew a car into the Whomping Willow, and was attacked by a psycho Bludger that broke my arm and landed me in the hospital with no bones in that arm. Thank you, Dobby.

By the way, Ginny still won't write in any diary.

The summer before my third year, my Aunt Marge came to stay with us. I accidentally, sort of…inflated her. I'll never forget the sight of her bobbing around near the light fixture. I ran away that night and ended up at the Leaky Cauldron with Hermione and the Weasleys. While there, I overheard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking about a mad man being after me. I don't know why this didn't scare me more.

The sad excuse for a Minister sent Dementors to "guard" the school. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget the drowning cold they make a person feel or the sound of my mother screaming. But enough of that.

My third year teacher for Defense classes actually knew what he was teaching. He said he was Professor Lupin but it turned out to be my dad. Go figure.

I lost my first Quidditch match that year because of those damn Dementors. The Whomping Willow ripped my Nimbus to shreds, too. That was a very difficult time for me. But I got a better broom for Christmas. I still have my old Firebolt but it's pretty outdated now. I don't really use it. The good thing is that we finally won the Quidditch Cup. I don't know what Wood would have done if we'd lost.

I found out the psycho mad man chasing me was actually my godfather. He'd been sent to Azkaban for killing twelve people but it had actually been Ron's rat. Well, Peter Pettigrew, as Ron's rat. Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, I thought I'd go to live with him that summer but Peter got away and Sirius was captured. Hermione and I went back in time to save him and Buckbeak, Hagrid's hippogriff.

Oh! And here's a first. I beat Mione at a final! Our only real Defense Against the Dark Arts final and I beat Hermione, the top student in third year. Just thought I'd point that out.

Fourth year was not a happy time for me. We had a strange D.A.D.A teacher and someone had entered me into the Triwizard Tournament, causing Ron to hate me. Eventually we worked it out, which brought Hermione to tears.

Sadly, there was no Quidditch that year, but that didn't stop me from using my new Firebolt!

During the last task, Cedric and I were taken to a graveyard where Voldemort got his body back. Cedric was killed, but when I snapped Voldemort's wand, he come back.

When I finally got back to school, Professor Moody took me to his office and tried to kill me. He turned out to be a Death Eater using Polyjuice Potion and the one who'd put my name in the Goblet of Fire. Thankfully, Dumbledore saved me and found the real Moody.

Fudge gave me the Triwizard winnings but I gave them to Fred and George to buy Ron some new dress robes and start their joke shop.

On a side note, Madam Maxime and Hagrid ended up together. Maxime left her school in someone else's care and came to Hogwarts to help Hagrid. I hope their children don't take after the giant in them. That'd be one big baby.

My fifth year was probably the worst year of my life. I was having strange dreams about what Voldemort was up to and I was really moody. I found out later it was because some of Voldemort's extra emotion was transferring over into me. Hear that, Mione? Wasn't my fault!

I started the DA when that Umbridge began teaching. 'Course, it was because of the DA that Dumbledore had to leave Hogwarts. A Dumbledoreless Hogwarts is never a good thing.

That year, Ginny and I got a bit closer. I found out that when she actually talked to me, she had a lot to say. She was smart and funny and just like the twins really, except she was a lot better looking. So, explain to me why she became Head Girl. Well, it doesn't matter. See, in my fifth year, I was too busy drooling over someone else to notice the change in Ginny.

After two years of following Cho around like a little puppy, we finally hooked up. Unfortunately, I wasn't Cedric, and I wouldn't talk about him, so she spent most of her time crying over him. Whenever we got together we fought so we just stopped talking to each other. That's when I finally started to notice a certain red haired girl, but she was seeing other people.

Then tragedy struck. I was actually kicked off the Gryffindor team by that foul woman, Umbridge. Well, I showed her in the end.

So, you all know what happened at the end of fifth year so I don't need to go into that. My mother took it pretty hard when she found out. However, one night afterI left HogwartsI got a call on my cell phone (I finally was able to afford one) from my dad. He said to get to what would have been our old house in Godric's Hollow as quick as possible. As it turned out, Sirius had been sent back. The curse his cousin had hit him with wasn't a killing curse. You can't stay behind the veil unless you're dead so after a few years, he fought his way out. He won't talk about what happened though.

My sixth year was fairly quiet, and I needed that. I mastered Occlumency with Dumbledore's help, but that didn't stop the dreams. It's safe to say that I was suffering from depression. Fortunately, my friends were able to pull me back. Cho and I tried again but she still liked Michael Corner, her ex. I was really starting to like Ginny, so we gave up. On New Years, I got drunk for the first time. Never again. Drinking is bad, kids! Snape finally kicked me out of his Potions class. We had a semi-cognizant teacher for our Defense Against the Dark Arts and Ron and Hermione finally got together. Mione even decided to start Quidditch, and she turned out to be very good

Right at the end of the year, Ron and Ginny lost their parents and Charlie. I saw it happen. I don't know if I'll ever forget it.

Now, my last year at Hogwarts finally arrived. Unlucky me got stuck with my uncle over the summer. He really liked his alcohol. But, I ended up with the Weasleys' again.

Some of you might be wondering about the relationship between Mark Evans and me. Well, here goes. We're cousins. Like Mark said, his mum, my mom's sister, ran away from home, met his dad, but left him when he revealed that he was a wizard, and had Mark. Dumbledore knew about it all along, but he was protecting Mark form, you guessed it, Voldemort.

Well, you just read all about my seventh year so I'm not going to drag you through that again. Thank me later. Instead I'll just wrap this all up. Ron and Hermione were married in a big church on the outskirts of town three years to the day of Ron's proposal. I guess he really didn't want to wait. Both of them became Aurors and helped round up the last of the Death Eaters. After a few years, they both retired. Ron started working at the Ministry, where he finally managed to become the youngest Minister of Magic ever, and Hermione's now the History of Magic teacher at Hogwarts. I've had the chance to sit in on one of her classes and I was actually able to stay awake. They have twins now; a boy and a girl, and those children get into more trouble than you'd believe; yet they're as smart as can be.

Fred and George kept up with their joke shop and now its major rival is Zonko's. Right after I left Hogwarts, they both got married, Fred to Angelina and George to Katie, in a double wedding. It was complete chaos…and I loved every minute of it.

Bill and Fleur eloped right after the twins' weddings and have three beautiful kids. How could they be anything but beautiful, I mean, look at their mother? Ginny will probably curse me into oblivion for that.

Malfoy went on to become an actor in one of those cheesy Muggle soap operas (he said it was his punishment for the way he'd acted all those years), though sometimes he stars in movies. On the set of one of these, he met his wife, a beautiful Muggle girl. They have a little girl who's one of my little Lily's best friends.

After Hogwarts, I went on to play with Puddlemere for a few years. Ginny came to join me the year she left schooltoo. That was way too much fun. Anyway, we ended up married (big surprise there) and wenow have one beautiful girl named Lily and a boy on the way. Ginny said she'd always wanted to name her daughter Lily, even before she found out it was my mum's name. Lily looks like her mom except she has my hair, though not quite as messy. She's in Gryffindor (naturally) in her third year at Hogwarts right now. She's even a Seeker on the Quidditch team, though sometimes she'll switch to Chaser if need be. Ginny's now the Charms teacher and McGonagall insisted on my teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. After much persuasion, I finally decided to do it and I couldn't be happier.

Now you know it all. If you'll excuse me, Lily wants to practice a bit before dinner.

Harry Potter


	19. You Poor People

You poor people,

If you've made it this far, then that means you've probably read that novel my husband wrote in place of his letter. I hope mine won't be that long. I'll just touch on some of the finer things he missed.

In my first year, Harry's second, I did not want to send that Valentine, and I didn't mean for the little Cupid thing to tackle him in front of everyone. He has Fred and George to thank for that.

During third year, I really wanted to go to the Yule Ball and I was thrilled when Ron told me to go with Harry. Then I remembered I was going with Neville, and by the way, I had a great time.

In Harry's fifth year, I dated around a bit, more to pass the time until Harry gave up on Cho than because I really liked anyone. Sorry guys. Harry was really moody, but I think I've always been attracted to the dark type. That year was amazing for me because Harry actually took the time to get to know me, even though he was with Cho.

The summer after was really hard for all of us, especially Harry. We all did our best to help him but I'm not sure it did any good. He was still really depressed. In the end he was able to pretend he was fine, but I don't think he ever was.

Cho and Harry got back together, but I don't think either of them really tried very hard. Eventually, she got back with Michael, although once Cedric came back, she gave up on him. She and Cedric are married now. Harry on the other hand finally started to chase after me but after six years of waiting for him, I was going to make him pay.

Harry took his spot back on the Quidditch team and I became a Chaser with Hermione. I think she joined just to spend time with Ron, who finally woke up and realized he loved her, and to not be the only one in our group not on the team. Katie Bell gave up her captainship to Harry halfway through the season because she was under too much stress with N.E.W.T.s coming up.

Mom, Dad, and Charlie died that year. We hoped that they'd come back too, but Voldemort wasn't the one to kill them, so they didn't…I know Harry felt really guilty about that.

I was very worried about him that summer. He hardly ever wrote and when he did he always sounded so unhappy. I had no clue about his uncle until Ron and Bill brought him home. I don't know if he's ever scared me more than the night he tried to…never mind. Anyway, since then, Harry's learned to talk about things that are bothering him.

Around Christmas, Harry finally wised up and we got together. Oh, by the way, you might be wondering why Ron overreacted so much when Harry broke up with me. Ron never really got over the night Harry and I spent locked in the broom closet. He didn't really believe that we didn't do anything. My own brother…well, he's old fashioned about that.

My seventh year was boring as hell without any of my friends. I was Head Girl and some other boy was Head Boy. I became team captain and we won the Cup again. I did fairly well on N.E.W.T.s. The only things new were the nightmares, but I never told anyone about them. I still get them, though not as often as Harry. When Lily was little, she never understood why her parents woke up in the middle of the night screaming. Moving on…

Harry left it up to me to tell you how he proposed (I think he's a bit embarrassed by it). I can't figure out why.

It was a dark and stormy night. Sorry, I've always wanted to write that. But it really was. It also happened to be the night of Ron and Hermione's wedding. We were at the wedding reception. Hermione insisted on having it at a Muggle banquet hall. The DJ ran into a problem when the power went out and he couldn't play his music. Harry didn't know it, but I was going to make him play a song anyway so this just gave me a reason.

Once someone found enough candles, he got up the nerve to start playing. It was one of his own songs and I still remember every word.

When I made up my mind

And my heart along with that

To live not for myself

But yet for you somebody said

Do you know what you are getting yourself into?

When I finally ironed out all or my priorities

And asked you to remove the doubt

That makes me so unsure of these

Things I ask myself

I ask myself

Do you know what you are getting yourself into?

I'm getting into you

Because you got to me

In a way words can't describe

I'm getting into you

Because I've got to be

You're essential to survive

I'm going to love you with my life

When you looked to me and said

I kind of view you as a friend

And for a second our eyes met

And I met that with a question

Do you know what you are getting yourself into?

I've been a liar and I'll never amount to

The kind of person you deserve to love you

You say you will not dwell on what I did but rather what I'll do you say

I love you and that's what you are getting yourself into

(Relient K, Getting into you)

Nice huh? So I'm spoiled, but don't you wish you had one too?

Well, right after that he sort of made a little speech type thing.

"I can't say that I'm surprised at all by the fact that Ron and Hermione got together. Ron's never been one for surprising people."

"Thanks, mate," Ron said.

"No problem. But as predictable as he is, he still managed to surprise me once. It was our last night at Hogwarts and he told me he wanted to propose to Hermione. I can't say I was expecting that one so soon."

"So, now I'm going to take a leaf out of Ron's book. Ginny, could you come up here?"

I wasn't nervous at all…All right, I was terrified, and I even thought I knew what was coming. I was right.

"Ginny, we've been through so much together, and not all of it was enjoyable, that's for sure. One thing all that taught me though, is that I shouldn't take things for granted, especially people.

"Right, so, I'm going to ask you this now. Ginerva Weasley, will you marry me?"

I sure gave Harry a big scare right then. I was in such a state of shock that the only thing I could do was cover my mouth and shake my head. I tried to tell him yes, but it wouldn't come out, so he thought I was saying no. I'll never forget how hurt he looked when he asked why I wouldn't say yes.

"I'm trying to say 'yes!' You'll have to forgive me if I seem a bit dumbfounded, I was just proposed to!" I shouted at him.

And now you know how it all happened. We were married six months later in an outdoor wedding by the lake at Hogwarts. It was strange being back there after all those years.

About a year after our wedding, I found out that I was pregnant with Lily. I asked for a break from Puddlemere until she was born, and at first they weren't too keen on taking me back in nine months, but I think Harry had a little talk with the captain and he finally convinced them.

The first few years of her life, Lily spent a lot of time with Ron and Hermione. It was hard for Harry and I to be home because of Quidditch. Somehow, Harry was the one to pull off the all-nighters with her though. I don't want to know how he did it because I probably won't like the answer. I suspect a lot of energy potions.

I don't want you to think that we were bad parents, now. We felt horrible about sending Lily away every morning. But she enjoyed spending time with her two cousins at her aunt and uncle's house.

One thing I remember Ron saying to us on our fifth anniversary was that Harry and I never fought. He said that scared him because every good couple fights. Well, every couple does fight. Trust me, Harry's had his share of nights on the couch, although, sometimes its difficult to take him seriously when we argue. He has this thing where he likes to argue just to make up.

When Lily was five, I got pregnant again. It was going to be another girl. We were going to name her Ella, but I had a miscarriage. That kind of threw me and Harry into a fit of depression and our nightmares got worse. We waited a while before trying again. In fact we waited so long, I didn't think we'd have another one.

So, jump ahead a few years. Harry and I both left Puddlemere at the beginning of Lily's second year. I suppose Harry told you I'm the Charms teacher, he does Defense, and Hermione's the History of Magic professor. I think Ron feels a bit out of the loop because he's the only one not at Hogwarts now.

Let's see. Not much has changed at school. It's a bit strange interacting as an equal with teachers who taught me for seven years. Snape still hates Harry, but his mood is improving bit by bit as he slowly realizes that Harry's not out to ruin his life, and I think McGonagall has to restrain herself from giving us a detention when Hermione, Harry, and I laugh too loud in the staff room.

Lily's now thirteen. She's a third year Gryffindor at Hogwarts. She loves her father's class the most, proof that she has always been daddy's little girl. She looks like me but she has Harry's hair (poor dear) and his brilliant green eyes (some girls have all the luck). She has my love for practical jokes and her father's temper, though she's hardly ever mad. She mostly saves that mood for Snape's classes.

Now we have another one on the way. This one's a boy. I think Harry's a bit relieved. He loves Lily more than anything but he really wanted a boy to keep the Potter name going. We haven't decided on a name yet, and I don't know if that will happen anytime soon. We've still got three months left…that really doesn't sound like much time though. Maybe I'll run Austin by Harry. Yeah, Austin Potter. But that sounds too much like that Muggle move Austin Powers. Maybe no one will notice.

Well, Harry's taking me out to dinner tonight and Lily's going to Mione and Ron's, so I need to get ready.

Ginny Potter

P.S. I tried to keep it short, but it ended up being longer than Harry's! Sorry. I just write bigger, that's all…


	20. oopsies

So I meant to add this to the last chapter but I forgot and im too lazy to go back and fix it so ill just make this a separate little thing. So that's the end of the story. However, I posted this story sumwhere else and they asked me what happened to uncle Vernon. Well, here u go. Remember how little whinging was attacked in my story? Well, during the attack, uncle Vernon was walking down the sidewalk. He was approached by a man in black. As soon as the man pulls out his wand, Vernon panics and darts into the street, right into the path of an oncoming bus. Then wham, bam alakazam, uncle Vernon gets hit by a bus and dies. Yeah, the moral of this story, look both ways b4 u cross the street.

On a happier note, I have 2 more one shots that I wanna put up here b4 I actually give them there own site. If u all could review those too it would be wonderful.

One more thing! Im thinking about writing harrys sixth year. I kinda talked about it in this book but I never really even though about actually writing it till now. Keep a lookout for it! ill want as much feed back as possible from reviewer, plus reviews make me feel special. But whatever. U all are bored and im tired and ive been on here way too long. So ill be back later with the one shots!


	21. untitled

so this is a separate story. it doesnt go along with anything in the other story, but it is still a ginny harry romance thingy. enjoy.

* * *

Ginny came to with a pounding headache. All the memories of the past hour shot through her brain as if she was seeing them again for the first time, but at a much quicker speed. Being dragged along by some man in a mask, the pain of the Cruciatus Curse, the joy and the dread she'd felt when she'd opened her eyes to see Harry sprinting towards her, and finally the realization that she would die as she watched Harry collapse in exhaustion and pain. That was the last she remembered. Soon after that, she heard Voldemort say something but she hadn't been thinking clearly; everything hurt so much and the only thing she wanted to do now was die, for everything to end. She'd blacked out and seen nothing more.

She supposed she'd finally died, but that didn't explain how or why she was waking up. Expecting to open her eyes to stare down the end of a black wand into the cold red eyes of the man who'd finally won, she forced the lids open. No one was around, at least that she could see.

"Maybe they're hiding, just waiting for me to try to escape," she thought bitterly.

But, at the same time she realized that couldn't be right. Why wouldn't they just kill her now? It wasn't like she meant anything to them. "Well," she decided angrily, "it would definitely be easier to think if ears would stop ringing!"

Suddenly she sat up. A sound, something like a groan, had penetrated the infernal noise. She frantically looked around her, but she couldn't see anything through the mist still covering her eyes.

She rubbed her eyes hard and blinked a few times to clear her vision. Finally, everything came into focus. It was then that she caught sight of Voldemort's motionless body. She celebrated silently for a moment before realizing Harry was nowhere to be found. Quicker than she thought possible, she was on her feet, craning her neck for a glimpse of messy black hair and brilliant green eyes. There, in the corner of whatever room she'd been held in, lay a figure curled up tightly, his emerald eyes closed as if in a deep sleep.

"Harry!" Ginny shouted, not bothering to keep her voice down now. She dashed to the corner and fell to her knees beside her motionless friend.

"Wake up!" she whispered frantically, rolling him onto his back.

Nothing.

"Harry?" she asked, shaking him forcefully. "Please, get up," she whined.

Still nothing.

Angry tears welled in her eyes and she choked out again, "Wake up!"

But he still didn't move.

"No!" she sobbed loudly as she collapsed over Harry, hugging him close and brushing his hair back off his forehead. His normally pale scar bled as if it had just been etched into his skin.

And yet, something just didn't seem right. Even as she held Harry close, she felt something on her face, like someone's breath tickling her cheek. She sat up wildly and watched for any sign of movement. Sure enough, she could see an almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest. A relief she'd never known before swept through her and she fell limp at his side, unable to move. She still lay there five minutes later when Harry began to stir.

With a pitiful moan, he brought his hands to his face and held his forehead tightly. "My head," he hissed.

After a moment, he turned his attention to Ginny whose eyes were closed and her lips pressed tightly together.

"Ginny, are you okay?" he asked quickly, sitting up.

She opened her eyes and nodded.

Harry sat up on his knees. "What happened?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know."

Harry gazed back, his eyes emotionless. When he spoke again, he used a hollow tone to match his expression. "It's over, isn't it?"

Ginny never answered.

Slowly, Harry got to his feet. He seemed to be favoring his right ankle, so Ginny helped him to the door. She poked her head outside and saw no one.

Ginny couldn't believe what had happened. Hogwarts had been her home for seven years and now it was barely standing. She knew it could be fixed, but to think, she'd always felt nothing could touch her here. She should have known better after first year she thought.

Harry suddenly stopped walking, jolting Ginny out of her thoughts. "Harry, what is it?" she asked

"Neville's dead!" he exclaimed angrily, kneeling beside the dead boy. "But he was fine when I left to get you," he said in disbelief. After staring a moment he abandoned Ginny and limped off on his own towards the front doors.

"Harry, wait!" Ginny called out, trying to catch up. Even injured, Harry could still move at a quick pace. She grabbed his arm and he whirled around to face her, his eyes shiny with tears that he refused to let fall.

"Neville's dead!" he shouted in a strained voice. "I didn't save him…I let him die, Gin! I was here and I could have helped him…" he continued angrily.

"No, Harry, Neville was trying to help you. It's not your fault."

"So it's his fault, I suppose," Harry yelled back at her, wrenching his arm from her grasp and looking at her as if she disgusted him.

"No, I didn't say that! It wasn't his fault either," she tried to explain.

"Stop being so calm about this. A lot of people died today and you're just standing there…" he choked.

"What do you want me to do, scream at you too?" she asked, unaware of her voice rising to match his. "You need to find Dumbledore, talk to him, and ask him what to do now that—."

"Just shut up!" he screamed, putting his hands over his ears. "You don't know what you're talking about! What has that man ever done for me? Nothing! He wasn't even here today, so just shut up about things you don't understand!"

"I understand a lot more than you might think, Harry! 'That man' loved you like a son. He spent every waking hour trying to protect you, so don't you dare say he's never done anything for you!" Ginny shouted, refusing to believe what she was hearing. She took a deep breath and started over, "Let's go find Dumble—"

"That's it!" Harry said quietly. "I've had it. Good-bye."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't stay here anymore," he said, limping down the stone steps and leaning heavily on the railing.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you thick, Ginny? I'm leaving. I'm tired of everyone treating me like I'm something special, I'm tired of Hogwarts, I'm tired of death…. Hell, I'm tired of magic all together. Good-bye."

"Where will you go?" she asked, running down the stairs after him.

"What do you care?"

She caught up with him quickly after that. In a flash she'd drawn back her hand and slapped her friend hard across the face. "Harry James Potter, don't you ever say that I don't care about you again. I love you, but you wouldn't know what real love is since you're running away from the only one's who've ever given it to you. You wanna leave us, go ahead, but don't expect to find what you had here anywhere else," she said before storming angrily away.

* * *

One year later, Harry sat in his dreary apartment in New York City. Of all the places he could have picked, New York had seemed the best. The constant fear of being robbed blind kept him on his toes, though it wasn't like he had much to steal. Then, all the hustle and bustle of the big city took his mind off other things, things he didn't want to think about. The only time he really dreaded was the night, when he was forced to relive his past.

It wasn't like he wanted to remember his friends. More than anything he would have liked to forget them and move on to live his life. And yet, he liked to think back on all the good times; being picked for Quidditch, winning the house cup, winning the Quidditch Cup, watching Hermione and Ron avoid each other at all costs so neither would realize they were in love with the other, seeing them get together, graduating for Hogwarts, all these memories Harry wanted to remember while at the same time desperately trying to forget.

This particular night, the city seemed quieter than normal, though Harry wasn't sure if it was because he was imagining it. Perhaps it had to do with it being exactly a year since Harry had left the Weasleys', but the memories seemed to be flooding his mind a bit more than usual. He sat there, staring at a blank wall, watching his last conversation with Ginny.

_Out of nowhere her hand had landed sharply on his cheek leaving a sting Harry would never have expected from a girl her size._

"_Harry James Potter, don't you ever say that I don't care about you again. I love you, but you wouldn't know what real love is since you're running away from the only ones who've ever given it to you. You wanna leave, go ahead but don't expect to find what you had here anywhere else."_

Harry had been dumbfounded. In seven years of knowing the girl, he'd never heard her use that tone of voice with anyone, even Malfoy. He felt ashamed of himself, speaking to her like that, and then hurting all the people who loved him by running away. And even after all he'd done, they still continued to write to him. Hermione wrote at least every other day. She'd even convinced Ron to give up his grudge and write once a week. Ginny had only written twice and Harry could tell she was still angry with him. Even in her anger she told Harry every letter that she still cared about him and wanted him to come home. Harry always wrote back, though it was only to say thanks for caring but he wouldn't be returning yet, if he went back at all. Harry wished they'd all just let him be.

He sat in silence for a few more minutes and was just about to get up and head to bed, even though it was only eight, when something hit him a like a ton of bricks. What was that Ginny had said?

"…_I love you, but you wouldn't know what real love is…"_

Harry's mouth fell open. It couldn't be true. Ginny hadn't even thought about Harry romantically since before fifth year, at least that was what Hermione had said, and it wasn't like Ginny had done much to dispel the thought.

Harry sighed, wondering if he'd known sooner would things have turned out differently. If truth be told, when he'd found out Dean and Ginny were dating, he'd been more than a little jealous, but that had been years ago. Did Harry still like her?

She was beautiful, that was for sure. Harry had always thought so, but he knew there was more to love than looks. However, she was also smart, caring, funny, and…Harry stopped himself. Of course he liked Ginny. He'd be a fool not to.

Harry let his head fall back. "Only I could stare at someone for almost ten years and not realize I love her," he thought angrily.

Now there was only one thing left to do. He'd have to decide if going back would be the best thing for him. If he was honest with himself, being in the middle of one of the biggest cities on Earth wasn't all it was cracked up to be, despite the lies he told himself. However, going back would be admitting he'd been wrong, and being wrong was something he'd always hated.

He shook himself out of his thoughts. He sounded so childish and selfish. There was nothing for it; he'd have to go back. Even as he made his decision, something started nagging at the back of his mind. Although Ginny had said she'd loved him, what was to say she hadn't moved on? He had been a complete git to her, and here he was assuming she'd automatically forgive him.

Harry sighed and put his hands over his face. He came out of his reverie what felt like hours later to a warm summer's breeze playing across his face. He looked out the open window at the busy street below.

In one fluid motion Harry was on his feet. He never left the windows open. He snapped it closed and then whirled around, looking at his empty apartment. Harry breathed a sigh of relief that no one had crept in. Maybe the wind had done it.

Unceremoniously, Harry collapsed back down on the couch, shielding his eyes from the lamp above him. He had almost made up his mind to stay in New York when he heard something that sounded like the rustling of cloth. He sat bolt upright and gazed frantically around.

No one.

He lay back down slowly and was a bit more uneasy about closing his eyes. As soon as they were shut again, the rustling started. Harry pretended not to hear it getting closer. Finally, it sounded as if something was standing right next to him. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The noise stopped and no one was there.

He pushed himself up. Still nothing. Then something caught his eye. Something snowy white.

"Hedwig!" Harry exclaimed, reaching down to pet her. "Why do you keep coming back? I let you go!"

She hooted proudly and stuck out her leg where a letter was neatly tied.

"Alright, you delivered you're letter, go on then," Harry said, shooing her away. She gazed back with her amber eyes and then took off to perch on the arm of the couch. Harry shook his head at her and turned back to his letter. It was quite short and hastily written.

_Harry,_

_I'm not going to try to convince you to come back home anymore. You've pretty much made yourself clear on that subject. The real reason for this is to tell you that Dad's sick. We don't know what's wrong with him at the moment, but we should know soon. Whatever it is it's not looking good for him. He wants to see you again though. I'm not saying you have to come but…yeah._

_Ginny_

Guilt was always an ugly feeling.

* * *

"So do you think Harry will come?" Hermione asked over the top of her book.

Ginny looked at her a moment before answering. "No, I don't think he will," she said. The she continued her balancing act on the railing around her porch.

"Do you really think he's that heartless?"

Clearly Hermione was missing the hint about wanting to drop the subject.

"Yes, Hermione, I do believe he is that heartless. If you could have heard what he said that day he left, this wouldn't be such a surprise to you," she snapped, stretching her leg out in front of her.

Hermione stared at her reproachfully for a moment but said nothing. Finally, her curiosity got the best of her and she burst out, "But you still like him?"

Ginny wobbled unsteadily for a moment before regaining her balance and turning to glare at her friend. Her look softened eventually and she sighed, "Yes. He may be a git, but he'll always be my git."

Hermione beamed at her and then frowned. "Get down before you hurt yourself, please!"

"Mione, I'm fine. I used to do this all the time."

"Yeah, when you were, what, five?"

Ginny turned to face her, her hands on her hips.

"It's time to go inside anyway," said Hermione, closing her book.

"No, I'm not going back in. I can't stand it anymore."

Hermione shook her head but opened her book again. "Then I'll just stay out her with—." She stopped mid-sentence and her eyes got wide.

* * *

Harry came creeping through the front yard as Ginny turned her back to him.

"It's time to go inside anyway," he heard Hermione say.

They Ginny muttered something Harry couldn't quite hear.

Next moment, Hermione was staring right at Harry who put a finger to his lips. She seemed dumbfounded and quit talking before she finished her thought.

"What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost," Ginny laughed. Then a thought seemed to strike her and said suddenly serious, "You haven't, have you?"

Hermione regained her cool and cleared her throat. "No, no ghosts."

"Ok," Ginny said as if she feared for her friend's sanity. She turned back around to continue her routine, caught sight of Harry and started to tip dangerously. She tried to find her balance again but failed and all once tumbled off the railing. She closed her eyes, fully expecting to land hard on the ground. However, when she opened her eyes again, she was staring up into a pair of brilliant green orbs. Ginny looked around a moment and found herself in Harry's arms.

"Hello," he said in surprise.

Quickly she scrambled out of his grasp. Then for the second time in her life, she slapped Harry hard on the face.

"That's for leaving," she spat.

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, standing up.

Harry just silently put a hand to his cheek. "Ow," he said after a moment.

"You deserved it!"

Harry sighed. "You're right."

"Don't argue with me…what?"

"You're right. I was horrible to you. To everyone. I came to apologize."

Ginny turned to Hermione as if to ask "what do I do now?" but Hermione just politely snuck inside. Ginny turned back to Harry. "Well, I can't say I was expecting this."

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry."

Ginny looked at him as if considering what to say. Suddenly, she'd thrown her arms around his neck and was kissing him. They stayed that way for a moment before Ginny pulled back.

"I can't say I was expecting this," Harry mocked her, though he was actually pleasantly surprised. "Well, that clears that up at least."

"Clears what up?"

"I wanted to know how I felt about something," he said casually, resting his forehead against hers.

"And…?" she pressed.

"And what?" he asked.

"How do you feel about whatever it is you're talking about?" she asked, taking both his hands in hers and interlocking the fingers.

Harry kissed her forehead and moved down to her lips again. "Yeah, I still like it," he breathed.

"Ginny, get in here quick. Dad wants to see you," Ron called from inside the house.

She dashed up the steps and turned to look back at Harry. "You should come in too," she said. "Dad's been getting worse for days and he wants to talk with you."

Harry followed her inside with an uneasy feeling. He wasn't quite sure what to expect. Whatever he'd been waiting for, it wasn't this.

Mrs. Weasley sat on the living room couch, watching with puffy eyes as a Healer descended from the upstairs, Bill sat next to his mother, one arm around her, Charlie paced before the fireplace, Percy stood off in a corner, staring at the ground, and Ron sat in a squishy armchair near the fire with his forehead in his hands while Hermione rubbed his back soothingly.

"Harry, dear, it's so good to have you back," Mrs. Weasley said thickly as she stood to embrace him. He hugged her tight and she continued, "Why don't you sit with us while Ginny runs up to talk to her father."

"I want him to come," Ginny said stiffly. "Besides, Dad wants to talk to him."

"That's fine, sweetheart. Just wait a moment. I want you to hear what Healer Morgan has to say."

"Well," the Healer began, "I've never seen anything like this before." He wiped his brow with a handkerchief and continued. "You say your husband suffered from a snake bite some years back, correct?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "But that was nearly five years ago. What has that got to do with Arthur now?"

"It seems there was still a bit of lingering poison. His last cold or illness seems to have brought the remaining toxin to the surface, so to speak."

"Can he recover?" Percy asked from the shadows.

"I'm afraid not," said the Healer, his eyes full of pity. "There's no way to extract the poison since it's mixed in with his bloodstream. He may not last the night." Healer Morgan sighed. "I've done all I can do for him. I'm sorry." Then he gathered up his bag and Disapparated with a crack.

The reaction to the news was worse than expected. Mrs. Weasley stood and quickly strode from the room to some other region of the house and Percy just left all together. Harry saw Ron look up, his eyes full of tears, at Hermione, who could only cry with him. Most surprising of all was Ginny. She'd said almost nothing since they'd stepped inside and at the news that her father would probably die before morning she still remained silent. She wasn't crying, in fact, she hardly looked as if she was breathing at all. She only mounted the stairs to her father's room, Harry close behind her.

At the door, Ginny knocked, then led the way in. "Daddy, Ron said you wanted to see me."

"Ginny! Come here, baby girl," he said, beckoning her over.

Whatever Harry had been expecting from the dying man, it wasn't this, that was certain. He seemed so energetic and happy. There was no way…

"And you brought Harry too!" he exclaimed jovially.

Turning back to Ginny he said, "I heard what Healer Morgan said. Those Extendable Ears are really useful," he joked. "Speaking of Fred and George, are they here yet?"

"No, Daddy, but they're trying their hardest. How are you feeling?"

"Worse if truth be told. I guess the Healer's right."

"Don't say that."

"And why not? It's the truth, and I'm not going to sit here and lie to myself about it. I know he's right. I can barely move anymore, so death is just something I'm going to have to accept."

He sat silent for a moment before turning his attention to Harry. "Now, I know things have been difficult for you lately, but I also happen to believe that you're here to stay now. Am I correct?"

Harry nodded. "I'd like to come back here, if there's no problem with it."

"No problem, of course. Well, seeing as you're here to stay, I want you to watch after Ginny for me. I know she loves you still, and I know you love her too, so—."

"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but how do you know these things?" Harry asked slightly dumbfounded.

"A father has eyes everywhere, my boy," he said wisely. After a pause he laughed and said, "No, I actually saw you two in the front yard earlier.

"What I'm trying to get at is that I want you to take care of her. I know she's a grown woman and all that but I'll rest easy knowing you're with my baby girl and she's not out chasing some young hoodlum."

Harry laughed. "Somehow, I don't think that will be a problem."

"Right, well, I need to talk to Ginny alone, if you don't mind. It won't take long if you just want to wait in the hall—Ow!" he shouted as he grabbed at his stomach.

"Daddy, are you okay?" Ginny asked, kneeling beside him.

"Yes, yes. The hall, Harry. And I'm glad you came back in time."

"Me too, Mr. Weasley. Good-bye."

Harry was still standing in the hall twenty minutes later when Ginny came out.

"How is he?" Harry asked.

Ginny only shook her head.

"Is he gone already?"

Ginny nodded this time, staring at the floor. When she next looked at Harry, she was finally crying.

"Oh, no," he said, drawing in a shaky breath and raking a hand through his hair. He opened his arms and enveloped Ginny tightly. He felt her hands clench over two handfuls of his shirt as hot tears soaked his shoulder.

He tried to say something comforting as he stroked her hair, but the words just wouldn't come out. Harry wrapped his arms tighter around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. They were still like that when Mrs. Weasley came to check on them ten minutes later.

"He isn't…Arthur isn't…?" she asked in a panicky voice. Ginny didn't answer so Harry nodded solemnly.

She rushed in to his room. At first, she said nothing but after a moment, she shrieked and the whole house came running. Ginny sobbed louder as footsteps pounded up the stairs.

* * *

I know. A rather morbid ending.

Well, when I started writing this story it was really just supposed to be a romance, cuz that's what I like to write. I never intended on killing Mr. Weasley but things just kept happening. If you'll excuse me, I'm gunna go cry now. Bye-bye Mr. Weasley. Tear


	22. No Use for a Name

So this one isnt as sad as the other one but i dont think its as good. yet again, another romance...thats about all i can write i guess. happy trails to u all! and yes i did take the title from the band "no use for a name." i know i really shouldnt do that but im horrible with titles. but since i told everyone that its wasnt my idea i really cant get in trouble for that right? i hope so.

* * *

"Ginny, are you ready? Everyone's waiting," Hermione said, poking her head in the door. 

Ginny nodded excitedly for a moment, then stopped, shaking her head miserably.

"Uh-oh," breathed Hermione as she stepped all the way into the room. "What's the matter?"

Turning to face the mirror, Ginny shrugged.

"Cold feet?"

She shook her head, never taking her eyes off her reflection. Here she was, wearing a gorgeous bridal gown, her hair done beautifully by her mother, with a man who loved her waiting, and she was having second thoughts.

"Nerves?" pressed Hermione.

Again, Ginny shook her head.

"Well, what then?" asked Hermione exasperatedly.

Whirling around, Ginny answered, "This just doesn't feel right. Look, I know Anthony loves me, but this just isn't right!" She paused. "If Harry was here—."

"So that's what this is about. Hang on a second."

Hermione walked back out into the sanctuary. Ginny heard her say nervously, "One minute, please. Minor crisis. No, Anthony, you can't see her! You know that's bad luck.

"Alright. Now, Ginny, we need to talk," Hermione said, sitting in a chair in a corner and patting the seat next to her, indicating that Ginny should sit as well.

"This is going to sound horribly rude and mean of me, but it needs to be said. Harry's not coming back, Ginny. He's dead. You can't change that, so get used to it."

Ginny turned her face away to hide the tears streaming down her cheeks. Whatever Hermione was saying didn't matter anymore. Ginny was thinking back to the day when everything ended.

* * *

Harry stumbled to his feet and dragged himself to Ginny. He threw his arms around her and leaned heavily on her. "It's over," he whispered into her neck as she held him. "He's gone." 

Neither noticed the presence of another person. Mistaken for dead, Bellatrix Lestrange crept toward the pair drawing for her belt a dagger she always kept with her.

In the blink of an eye, she's thrust the knife into Harry's back. Ginny let go as she felt him tense up and noticed Harry's blood oozing over her hands. Harry slid to his knees and Ginny finally caught sight of Bellatrix, whose face was lit with a triumphant grin.

Ginny fumbled for her wand. "Stupify!" she cried, knocking Lestrange off her feet.

"Harry," Ginny whispered as she knelt beside her bleeding friend.

"Ginny, you need to get yourself out," he rasped, stroking her cheek. "Go, now."

"No," she said stubbornly. "I'm going to find help."

She started to stand but Harry pulled her back down and kissed her softly on the lips.

"Go now!" he said again.

"I'll be back, I promise," she shouted as she tore form the room. Outside, no one could be found. Cursing, she pulled out her wand and Apparated to Hogsmead. When she finally reappeared, she took off running up the sloping hills towards Hogwarts, wishing she could run faster, or fly, or something.

By the time she returned with help, Harry and Bellatrix had both disappeared.

At first, Ginny had held out hope that he might return, but after a year of nothing it finally sank in. She'd shared her first and last kiss with Harry that night, and he wouldn't be coming back again.

* * *

"Ginny, are you even listening?" Hermione asked, jolting her from her thoughts. 

Ginny turned to face her, tears streaming down her face and splashing over onto her hands clenched in her lap.

"Oh, Gin, don't cry. You don't have to go through with this."

Ginny stood and wiped her eyes. "You're right, Mione. Harry's not coming back…How's my make up?"

"Lovely," said Hermione, beaming.

The walk down the aisle was the longest thing Ginny had ever experienced. All the while, she kept her eyes staring stonily ahead. Then all the sudden, she stood next to Anthony, hand-in-hand. They priest had asked all gathered if there were any objections and he attention was now turned to Ginny.

"Do you, Ginerva Weasley, take…"

Ginny was off again, thinking back to her days at Hogwarts. She shook her head and shouted, "No!"

She looked around as everyone gaped at her, stunned.

"Ginny?" Anthony said, staring wide-eyed at her. "What do you mean?"

Ginny looked to Hermione. She shrugged helplessly and turned back to Anthony.

"I can't. I'm sorry, but I just…I can't."

And with that, she took off out a side door. She ran at first, where she didn't know. When she could run no more, she collapsed on a nearby bench.

Gazing around, she found herself in a park. A black-haired man was staring at her with a worried expression.

She hid her face in her hands, embarrassed.

"Excuse me, miss," said the strange man, taking the seat next to her, "but what's the matter?"

Ginny didn't answer. Instead she kept her face in her hands. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Tissue?" the man asked.

Ginny accepted, refusing to look at the stranger. "Thanks," she sniffed, wiping her eyes.

"So enlighten a curious stranger. What's a beautiful girl like you doing, crying her eyes out on a park bench on her wedding day?"

"How did you know?"

The man laughed, a laugh strangely familiar to Ginny, and then answered, "The dress."

Ginny shook her head. It just couldn't be. And yet…the black hair and brilliant green eyes were right in front of her. The only thing missing was the glasses. Ginny couldn't help but stare.

Finally the man, feeling the intensity of Ginny's gaze, caught her eye. He squinted quizzically at her.

"Have we met before?" he asked in disbelief.

"I don't see how we could have," Ginny answered fixing her eyes on her hands in her lap. "Unless…what's your name?"

The man rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. "I know this is going to sound weird, but I don't know. People just call me Jesse. I guess it works for me."

"Why don't you know your own name?" Ginny asked uncertainly.

"I don't remember most of my life. I woke up one day in an empty house and I couldn't remember how I got there."

"Then how did you get the name Jesse?"

Jesse placed his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers. He rested his chin on his fists and answered, "The first person I met said I looked like someone they once knew named Jesse." He sighed.

"So you can't remember anything before that day?"

"Only bits and pieces. Like when I saw you, I thought I remembered something…but it can't be true if we've never met."

"What did you remember, Harry?" Ginny froze. "Sorry, I mean Jesse."

Jesse ignored her mistake and said, "Well, it's dumb…but I thought I remembered…well, kissing you…but that can't be true!" he added hastily. "Can it?"

"I don't think so."

The two sat in silence for a while before Jesse suddenly burst out, "Why did you call me Harry?"

"Well, you look like someone I knew. But he's been dead for four years now."

"And his name was Harry?"

"Yes. Why?" Ginny asked nervously.

Jesse cocked his head. "Well, the other day this weird old man ran up to me and called me Harry…Harry Potter I think, but I told him I wasn't."

"That was his name!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Weird," he whispered. "But he's dead you said." He paused. "My god, you look familiar.

"You know, you never said what you were doing here?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I was supposed to get married today, but, well…You can see how that worked out."

"Did he leave you?"

"Other way around."

"Why?"

"Oh, just the slight realization that I was still in love with someone else," she sighed, resting her chin in her hand.

"So you wound up here?"

"Yup."

"Seems like a weird place to end up."

"Why?"

"I just figured you'd have found the other first."

Ginny chuckled sadly to herself. "If only I could. They I wouldn't be in this situation. See, he's the one who died."

"Let me see then. You were going to get married, but then you realized you were still in love with this Harry Potter, my dead twin? Is that right?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, what are you going to do? You can't very well sit on a park bench talking to me for the rest of your life."

"And why not? I'd be much happier this way," Ginny said, depressed again. "I guess I'd better get back. I've got a lot of explaining to do to my family."

"So you're not going back to your fiancé then?"

Ginny laughed. "Not after my performance earlier. I have to go. Thank you for listening, Jesse."

She stood and started off down the path she'd come by.

"Wait, miss! You never told me your name. I was wondering if I could see you again."

Ginny turned as Jesse caught up with her. She gave him a weary smile. "I don't think that would be a good idea. It would be too hard for me."

"I understand. Do you know her?" he asked, pointing over her shoulder.

"Ginny! I found you! Do you have any idea how worried your mother is. Or how horrible Anthony's feeling right now?"

"Ginny?" Jesse asked. "Your name's Ginny?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I have to go."

Ginny and Hermione had almost made it out of the park when Jesse came running up to them again.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked.

"I was hoping she could tell me," he answered, turning back to Ginny.

"Jesse, I don't know what you want me to do!"

"No, listen to me!" he shouted excitedly. "I remember. You're name is Ginerva Weasley! Your brother, Ron, he was my best friend…" James looked at Hermione for a moment then whispered, "And you liked him."

"Ginny," said Hermione quietly, "why does this man look like Harry, and how does he know who we are?"

Ginny didn't answer. She walked up to Jesse so that their faces were barely and inch apart and looked directly into his eyes. They remained motionless for a moment before Ginny nodded silently. Harry enveloped her in a tight hug while Hermione looked on in disbelief.

"It can't be," she said plainly. "Ginny, Harry's dead!"

"No, I'm not, Hermione."

"But, it doesn't make sense!"

"Does it have to?" Harry asked, letting go of Ginny and moving to embrace Hermione, who received him stiffly.

"Oh, come on, Mione!" he said as he held her back at arms length. "It's me!"

Hermione looked into his eyes just as Ginny had. "Harry, where are your glasses?" she asked seriously.

Harry laughed and hugged her close. When she pulled back again she laughed and wiped her eyes. "Wait till Ron sees you! Oh, and Ginny, your mum!"

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yeah so not a probable story, just a little bit of fluff. so, anyway, i started on harry sixth year. so if u stick around a while, ull be able to find out all about harry's sixth year and what led up to the story still looking. that means ull hear all about harry and cho, harry falling for ginny, and ron getting together with hermione and losing his parents. i dont know how good it will be but ill post chapter one as soon as i finish it. until then, keep reading and reviewing and check in here every once in a while cuz i dont think it will take me that long to write. o and if it isnt very good, dont kill me. i havent written a story in 2 years. im a little rusty. thanks very much for reading and reviewing!

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